Fateful Meetings
by Sora G. Silverwind
Summary: Novelization/re-telling of the game Bomberman 64: The Second Attack. Simultaneously loltastic and depressing, realistic and nonsensical. Starlight: Breakaway
1. Alcatraz: Prologue

**Fateful Meetings**  
_**by Sora G. Silverwind**_

**Summary****: On the way home from a restful vacation at Ksa2's hot springs, Bomberman gets pulled into a black hole and thrown into the middle of a celestial mess. Novelization/re-telling of the game "Bomberman 64: The Second Attack."**

**Rating****: PG-13 for language, violence, and other randomosities.**

**Author's notes****: I was finally able to bring this back to life (slightly) after a long period of deadness. Huzzah!**

**Contains spoilers for the game, which should be a given. I am also blatantly abusing my creative license and taking some massive (and by that I mean HOLY MOTHER-OF-A-SON THAT'S FREAKIN' HUGE) liberties with what's in the game...my biggest offense being that all the characters, save for our lovable plushie Pommy, are in human forms imagined by yours truly. (And not chibi human forms, either.)**

**EDIT - _Fateful Meetings_ is now in bite-sized chapters for your pleasure!  
**

**Disclaimer****: I don't own the original plot, or the original characters (Bomberman, Pommy, and company). I do, however, own the last names of the characters, their human forms, and whatever customizations I made them go through for the sake of this fanfic.**

**Special thanks to****: Cremesavers, bottles of mocha frappuccino, Vatical Entertainment, thesaureseseses, and finals week.**

B-O-M-B

Shiro, better known to most people as Bomberman, was happily reading a book in the plush pilot's seat of his custom spacecraft. Taking a breather from the fast-paced adventures of Corri Farblood, he reclined in his seat and reflected upon the past few months or so. He hadn't had time to himself like this in...well...a long time. Sure, there'd been times that he'd been able to secure a few hours alone in his usual busy schedule, but most of the time he also had something hanging over his head, eating away at his conscience—like that 10-page sociology paper he'd been putting off, or that physics lab report he had to fix, or those utility bills that he had to pay off, or helping his friend Kuro get out of yet another female fiasco. And then there had been that riot on Primus Star a few months ago he'd had to go clean up because the diplomat that Bomber Star had sent to mediate between the royal family and the rival faction couldn't negotiate his way out of a wet paper bag.

But now that was all behind him, and Bomberman looked forward to a bright, carefree future.

_GRRMBLE!_

Bomberman simpered and held his stomach, slumping a bit in his seat. He _knew_ he shouldn't have skipped that last meal on Ksa2. He'd wanted to save a little money because he still had some outrageous credit card bills to pay off, but now he was just paying for his stinginess. Bomberman hadn't even thought to get something for the road, and his control panel didn't have a vending machine of any sort, although he was pretty sure he'd asked for one when ordering this custom job. "What a way to end my vacation," he grumbled, feeling his initially cheerful spirit rapidly plummet down the emotional drain. "I can't even see a planet or pit stop for miles!"

His dark brown eyes wandered over to his right, where, on the co-pilot's seat, sat a rather large egg with bright pink spots. A little girl on Ksa2 had given it to him as a thank-you gift for helping her find her pet viper. Suspicious at first, Bomberman was happy he had decided to take it. _I bet I can fry it when I get to an inhabited planet,_ Bomberman thought hungrily, closing his book in anticipation. _Of course, that's assuming I live to see one around here,_ he added forlornly, looking out the windows and seeing nothing but inky black space broken only by a few specks of starlight. _Why the heck aren't there any planets around here? There should at least an asteroid stand in these parts..._

An ominous rumble suddenly came from outside.

_SHHHHNK!_

Bomberman glanced up to see meteorites and space junk hurtling past his ship at ridiculously high speeds. One particularly large space rock grazed the side of the spacecraft, causing it to jerk and nearly throwing Bomberman out of his seat. "Naruto!" he said, addressing the ship's main computer. "Scan out space in a 500 kilometer radius!"

"Space singularity, 58 kilometers ahead," Naruto chirped a minute later. A holographic screen showing a grid of heavily distorted green lines popped up, along with smaller screens describing the properties of the singularity, otherwise known as a black hole. "Diameter: 200 kilometers. Event horizon is 50 kilometers from our current position."

"Damn!" With a yank of a lever, Bomberman activated the engines, and attempted to turn his shuttle around. "Naruto, full throttle on all four engines!" he ordered. But Bomberman hadn't gotten far before two more pieces of garbage slammed into his ship, pushing it closer to the dark, foreboding mouth of the black hole.

_SLLNKKK-CRRASSH!_

"Upper and lower left engines out and disabled," Naruto warned.

"Crap!" The young man stomped his foot on the floor in frustration, his pure white hair plastered to his now-sweaty face. "What else could possibly go wrong—?"

"Warning: we have entered the event horizon," came Naruto's mechanical voice. "Repeat, we have entered the event horizon."

Bomberman bit his lip nervously and swore again. He was doomed now, for sure. In about three minutes he would succumb to the immense gravity of the black hole and be flattened like a pancake. What could he do now? Half his engines were shot! He could barely move, let alone escape. Unless... "Naruto!" Bomberman said. "Activate jump mode! We're going to teleport out!"

"Cannot activate jump mode. Space-time continuum too distorted to make safe teleportation."

Bomberman's ship lurched again, more violently than before. He sailed across the floor and into the opposite wall, slamming into the cold steel. The last thing he thought of before he blacked out was a scrambled egg sandwich.

B-O-M-B

Within the black hole, on the lost planet of Alcatraz, two unidentified soldiers were discussing their latest haul of junk and what to do with it.

"Just dump it all in here. There's nothing that looks really important. And toss the guy in one of the jail cells, maybe the one that the Lilith girl escaped from. Shame that we weren't able to keep her...she was such a hottie."

"Nah, too violent for my tastes." A few rummaging sounds entered the conversation. "Hey, what should I do with this egg?"

"Are you stupid? It's a freakin' egg. Give it to—holy shit!"

"What's your problem?"

"This boy's got the Fire Stone that Master Baelfael's been looking for!"

"No shit! You sure that's what it is?"

A beeping noise was heard. "It's giving off the same wavelengths as the other Elemental Stones. I'd say it was it."

"You don't say. Who do you think this guy is, to have it with him?"

There was a contemplative pause.

"Eh, who cares? Let's just take it back to Master Motomiya! Hyeh, hyeh, hyeh, this'll be music to his ears!"

"Maybe we'll even get a raise! I say we celebrate with some sake! I just snatched some off that one merchant ship that got caught in the black hole! Little bugger was too fat to catch me!"

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go!"


	2. Alcatraz: A Peculiar Pair

Bomberman was jolted awake by a sharp smack to his head. As he drifted between consciousnesses, he heard the clinking of glasses and the laughter of two drunken men coming from somewhere above him. Groggily, he sat up and shook his head to clear his mind a bit. He was in what looked like an old, dilapidated jail complex. There was an empty jail cell next to his own, some rusty pipes snaking along the walls, and a stairway going up.

...a stairway?

"Hah!" Bomberman exclaimed. "That's my ticket out of here! But first...gotta bust out of this joint."

He wiggled the bars of his cell. Stuck tight. He tried the door. Locked fast. Looking down, he saw that some of the lower bars in the door were knocked away, but the space was too small for him to fit through. Bomberman tried to think of every TV show and movie stunt that heroes used to escape from these types of situations, but since he didn't watch a lot of either, he was at a loss. "Well, looks like I'll just have to blast my way out, then," Bomberman said cheerily, smirking.

He focused his chi on his right palm, forming the glowing mass into a spherical shape that took on the stereotypical image of a bomb. He set it down by the door, and stepped back to prepare for the ensuing blast.

_BOOM!_

The bomb exploded in thick smoke and a burst of heat.

Bomberman waved away the smoke...and saw that the door was still intact.

He blinked.

He created another bomb and tried again.

_BOOM!_

No effect.

Panicked, the bomber searched his clothes pockets.

The Fire Stone, a stone he had received from Bomber Base that increased the firepower of his explosives, was gone.

Bomberman immediately regretted passing up all the special training sessions at Bomber Base, trusting instead that he'd always have the stone with him. Sometimes the extent of his own stupidity and complete lack of foresight scared him. Now what should he do?

Before he could sink any further into his self-pity, Bomberman heard a tapping noise behind him. Turning around, he spotted the egg that he had brought with him from Ksa2. "Well, at least someone was 'nice' enough to let me have the egg," he remarked, stooping over to pick it up."

The egg twitched and shook in his hands.

Startled, Bomberman abruptly dropped it onto the ground.

_CRAACK! _

He winced at the harsh sound of eggshell pieces skittering across the dusty cement, and braced himself for a smelly, sticky mess.

Instead of yolk, however, there was a round, brown creature with floppy ears who looked very puzzled. "Myu," it whimpered, seeming a bit disoriented. It rubbed its head with its ball-like pink paws. "Hey, this isn't where Pommy fell asleep! Where is Pommy?"

Bomberman stared at the "Pommy" for a while. Pommy was about a foot tall, and eerily resembled a video game character called Kirby, who looked almost identical to Pommy except he was pink, shorter by four inches, and didn't have floppy dog ears. _A living marshmallow,_ Bomberman thought greedily. _I'll roast him over a campfire as soon as I get out of here!_

Pommy suddenly noticed the presence of Bomberman. "Hey!" he screeched. "Where is Pommy?"

"Um...well..." stuttered Bomberman. "You're here with me. In, um...an old jail."

"And where's this old jail?"

"Uh...inside a black hole."

"A black hole?" Pommy was frantic now, hopping up and down in short spurts. "How did Pommy get inside a black hole? Pommy remembers getting tired, so Pommy went inside Pommy's egg for a nap, so how did Pommy end up here? Huh? Huh? Huh?"

The creature's unbridled hyperactivity was quickly tiring Bomberman. "Th-that was kinda my doing," he said, yawning. "I was on Ksa2, and a girl gave me your egg as a gift, so I took it on my spaceship."

"Stupid girl," muttered Pommy. "Why'd she have to go and do that? Didn't she know that Pommy was inside the egg?"

"I guess she didn't," Bomberman answered, surprised at Pommy's comment about the girl. _Who knew marshmallows could be so vindictive?_

Pommy stomped up to Bomberman. "Well, now Pommy wants to leave, and you're going to help him leave!" he commanded, earning another astonished look from the bewildered bombardier.

Bomberman took a moment to recover from Pommy's bold demands. "I'd help you," he said dryly, "but I'm missing something important to me, and I need it back."

"Would that thing important to you help us get out of here?"

Bomberman nodded.

Pommy paced back and forth, lost in thought. Was he (it?) even capable of that? "Well, there's a space in the door, but you can't fit through—you're too big!"

"Is that all you can come up with?" Bomberman asked, a bit irritated at being told the obvious. His stomach grumbled in response.

"Myu! Don't hurt Pommy!" Pommy carefully inched over to the door, but not without giving Bomberman's stomach a second glance. "Pommy can fit through, so Pommy can get out and find your important thing so we can both get out. Okay? Don't go away!" And he hopped through the gap and skipped up the stairs.

_Not like I can actually go anywhere,_ Bomberman thought glumly, sitting down and wondering if the end of his young life was near.

B-O-M-B

Pommy landed on the top step with a loud thump, startling the two soldiers in the room. "Myu!" he growled. "Beware the righteousness of Pommy, the greatest hero in the universe!"

One of the soldiers glared at Pommy with bloodshot eyes.

Pommy took a tiny step backwards. "Myu? Why is the scary man looking at Pommy like that?"

"Whaddya want, you mangy mutt?" the other soldier snarled, smashing his sake bottle on the edge of the table. Glass shards flew everywhere. "We ain't got any dog biscuits for you!"

Pommy flinched, barely avoiding being grazed by a glass fragment. "Myu! P-Pommy...Pommy only wants whatever...whatever...you stole...from..."

The other soldier arched a brow.

Pommy gasped and cowered under his ears. "Oops! Pommy forgot to ask the guy his name and what he was looking for! Oh, no..."

From somewhere down below, Bomberman swore wildly.

"It's a friend of that guy in the cell!" exclaimed the first soldier. "After it!"

"Myu!" Pommy performed an about-face and ran down the stairs, the two soldiers following him.

B-O-M-B

Bomberman was more than slightly annoyed when he saw Pommy scampering down the staircase less than a minute after he had left, with two very angry-looking soldiers on his tail no less. "What the hell are you doing, marshmallow?" he shouted.

"Quiet!" screamed one of the soldiers, pointing his laser gun at Bomberman. "We're just taking care of your little friend!"

"Then you're not doing a very good job," Bomberman remarked. "He seems rather unhappy."

_SPANG!_ A bright blue laser bullet whizzed past Bomberman's ear, sailing into the stone wall behind him. "Shut your trap, boy," the soldier spat, running to join his partner in chasing after Pommy.

As the soldier passed by, Bomberman stuck his foot out of the gap in the door, tripping him. "Alley-oop!" he said.

"Wah!" The soldier flailed and slammed into the ground.

_SMASH!_

From a pocket fell a glowing, orange gem—the Fire Stone.

"All right!" Bomberman cheered. He quickly reached through the gap to grab it, and felt its power immediately surge back into his body. Before the soldier could recover, Bomberman plopped a bomb by the door.

_KA-BLAM!_

The blast blew away the door and knocked the soldier unconscious. Without a second glance, Bomberman shot off after Pommy and his pursuer.

He rounded a corner and found himself on an upper level of the prison that overlooked an open first floor. There was no sign of either Pommy or the second soldier. Looking down from his position, he saw two more soldiers patrolling the area, and the only way out was a door on the lower level. Not wanting to deal with any more trouble than he had to, Bomberman charged two explosives and tossed them over the edge of the railing. The resulting confusion and smoke cover allowed him to get to the other door.

Bomberman wrinkled his nose at the stench of stale sewer water in the air—he'd entered a passage leading to the sewers of the prison, apparently. However, he refused to let it deter him, and he continued his quest. He made his way down a staircase, and found a few burn marks scattered on the concrete walls. He could hear two faint voices in the distance. One of them was distinctively high-pitched. "The party's not too far away," Bomberman muttered, wading down into a shallow pool of water. He kicked away a grate and followed the open tunnel to a long, narrow waterway, at the end of which he could see the back of the other soldier and the frantic floppy ears of a newly escaped prisoner.

"Damn blasted sonuvabitch can't stay still!" the soldier cursed, firing off a volley of laser shots.

"Myu!" Pommy was oddly agile for such a round creature. He hopped up to avoid one shot and bounced to the side to avoid another.

Bomberman broke into a run. "Hey, loser!" he yelled. "Pick on people your own size!" He shoved a foot into the soldier's spine.

"Ugh!" The soldier fell face-first into the murky liquid, stunned.

Bomberman used the guard's exposed back as a stepping stone to a higher ledge, where Pommy was currently cowering. "C'mon, puffball, let's beat it before the guy wakes up and figures out what hit him."

Pommy nodded, and the two skittered to an entrance nearby. Fortunately for them, there were no live guards around, only discarded piles of robots and three functioning robots, which Bomberman quickly took out with a few well-thrown explosives. After shoving the mechanical carcasses off to the side, they took a rest, leaning against some crates filled with more robotic parts.

There was a small silence as they caught their breaths. "Myu," started Pommy, "did you ever get your thing back?"

"Yeah." Bomberman briefly took the Fire Stone out of his sweatshirt pocket.

"Okay." Pommy looked down. "Pommy's sorry that Pommy couldn't get that back for you."

Bomberman waved him off. "It's fine. At least you tried."

Pommy jumped up. "Oh! Pommy hasn't introduced himself yet!" he yapped, eyes shining and ears flopping. "Pommy's name is Pommy!"

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out by now," Bomberman responded, looking amused.

"Well, now Pommy needs to know your name!"

Bomberman stood up to stretch. "My real name is Shiro," he said, brushing some dust off his clothes after stretching, "but everyone just calls me Bomberman."

"Hmm..." Pommy scratched his head with one of his ears. "Pommy thinks that 'Pommy' is a better name than either 'Shiro' or 'Bomberman'!"

Bomberman shot Pommy a murderous look.

"What?" screeched Pommy. "Pommy's only telling his opinion!"

Bomberman didn't answer. "Heads up," he said, tossing a low-power bomb at the crates.

_BOOM!_

The crates splintered with the explosion, causing mechanical parts to spill everywhere. Pommy was swept off the ground with the wave of rusted metal. "Myu! What did Bomberman do that for?" he demanded.

"Hang on, I'm looking for something." Bomberman climbed onto the pile of junk and rummaged through the debris, tossing some large pieces of wood away. After a few minutes, there was a triumphant cry, and Bomberman came up, clutching a small black remote in his hand. "Yes! Victory!"

"What's that?" Pommy asked.

"A cherry-flavored lifesaver," replied Bomberman, smiling gleefully.

It was now Pommy's turn to give Bomberman a strange look. "But aren't lifesavers round?"

Bomberman ignored Pommy and concentrated his mental energy on the remote in his hand. One of his abilities that came from being a bomber was the ability to configure almost any mechanical device (depending on the bomber's skill level) into a remote control for his or her explosives. It was a difficult technique, and not often used because it required a fair amount of chi energy and a good handling of chi. However, in this strange, foreboding, and unfamiliar place, Bomberman decided that the benefit of being able to control his explosives outweighed the drain on his chi. He could regain the energy with some rest and a good meal, anyway. The former would come easily, but the latter...well...time would tell.

At the thought of something to eat, his stomach grumbled, temporarily interrupting his train of thought. Bomberman had forgotten that he had a hankering for some ham, or any sort of edible item. "Eh, crap," he muttered. This was going to bother him for a while...

"Is Bomberman all right?" Pommy asked, concerned.

"Yeah." Bomberman finished up the configuration of his remote, and heaved a weary sigh as the effects of the technique caught up to him. He really did regret bypassing those training sessions at Bomber Base; he'd have to work his ass off to get his abilities up to par. "You mind if we rest for a while before we go on?" he asked. "I'm tired as hell and both of us just got off a wild goose chase."

"Myu, Pommy doesn't mind."

"Good. Nice to know that you're a flexible...um...creature." Bomberman leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He could feel Pommy snuggling up next to him, and the next thing he heard was a string of squeaky snoring. _Damn, he changes gears faster than a bicycle,_ Bomberman thought, mildly entertained by this comparison.

B-O-M-B

Later, in another part of Alcatraz...

"We're sorry, Master!" came the whiny voice of an Alcatraz soldier. "I don't know what happened! We had it right there, and...and...and the next instant—"

"A living blob of mochi goes and makes fools out of both of you?" growled an angry, hoarse voice. Its owner was hidden in darkness, sitting in a chair with his back to the soldier. "You two really are pathetic. I can't believe I entrusted you to keep it until I arrived."

"S-sorry, sir!" another soldier whimpered.

"You should be sorry, indeed," answered the voice. There was a snap of fingers, and then the screams of the two soldiers as they went up in dark, red flames. Only ashes remained where they once stood, and amused laughter resounded through the room.

On one of the walls, a TV screen flashed on, showing the snoozing figures of Bomberman and Pommy. "White-haired mortal," spoke the voice, now in a more normal tone. "What secrets do you hide, that you have possession of such a powerful item?" Another laugh. "Well, whatever they are, I'll find out soon. After all, I _am_ the greatest genius in the universe!" The sound of furious typing came from red-gloved fingertips. "Let's see if you are worthy of my company!"


	3. Alcatraz: The Crimson Flame

Bomberman awoke from his nap to flashing red lights and a blaring siren. "What on Bomber Star...?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Myu, turn down the music," murmured a still-half-asleep Pommy.

_THNK-THNK-THNK!_

Numerous trapdoors swung down from the ceiling, dropping enemies onto the floor below. Some were robots, others were mutated sewer creatures, and three were floor soldiers, but all of them had one purpose: to eliminate Bomberman.

"Oh, crap!" Bomberman jumped to his feet and looked around him in shock. They were circling him now, like ravenous wolves cornering their prey. "Dammit, Pommy, wake up! We've got company!"

"Myu? But nobody called Pommy to say they were visiting..."

"Hyah!" One of the guards swung his bayonet at Bomberman's head.

Bomberman ducked and punched him in the face.

The guard stumbled into a pile of robot parts and sank in the junk, half-conscious.

Bomberman formed a bomb and dropkicked it at the fallen guard. But before he could detonate it...

_SWMMM!_

A laser beam flew past Bomberman's head, just missing the snoozing Pommy.

Bomberman turned around to find two robots advancing on him. "You want it?" he asked, forming two more bombs in his hands. "Then come and get it!" He flung the explosives at the robots, and then smacked a hand to his jean pocket to hit the button of the remote control.

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

Robot limbs scattered everywhere.

Bomberman smirked.

A guard snuck up on Bomberman from behind and knocked him to the floor with his metallic rifle.

_WHAM!_

Bomberman whacked his head on a jutting wall corner and reveled in a psychedelic wonderland for a few seconds before remembering where he was. He snatched two large pieces of wood from the floor and blocked an incoming blow from the same guard with one piece, then shoved the other one into the guard's face, giving him a face full of splinters.

"Augh!" The guard stepped back, writhing in pain.

Upon hearing more footsteps and a battle cry, Bomberman spun around and sent his last wood piece sailing at the approaching guard. The plank caught the guard in the chest, stunning him long enough for Bomberman to charge a bomb, throw it, and detonate it.

_BOOM!_

With the last guard taken care of, Bomberman turned his attention to the remaining robot. He bent back to avoid its laser shots, then turned a back flip from his position, charged up a bomb, and hurled it at the mechanical menace—all in one "graceful" motion. "Pommy!" he shouted over the commotion. "I'd really like some help here!"

"Zzzzzzz" was Pommy's only response.

The bomber growled. _It was just as well,_ he thought. _That puffball couldn't beat an egg with a spiked mace._

Demonic squeaking alerted him to the presence of about five mutated sewer rats scuttling towards him. Bomberman's foot lashed out at the first one he could reach, sending it flying across the floor. This caused the previously immobile bats to storm him from the ceiling.

_SKREEE-SKREE-SKREE-SKRREE!_

"Argh!" Bomberman waved his arms about wildly, trying to fend them off. "What the hell _is_ this, 'Beat on Bomberman Day' or something?" He rolled to the ground, grabbed another plank of wood, and hurled it at them, temporarily disrupting their formation. He followed up with two bombs that took out the rat army and half of the bats.

_KA-BOOOM!_

"Myu..." Pommy, finally roused, stretched his ears and yawned. "Did Pommy—"

"Yes, you missed something!" snapped Bomberman, snatching Pommy by one of his ears and running out an open door, slamming it shut once through the doorway.

Pommy yawned again. "Myu, keep it down, Pommy's still sleepy."

Bomberman paid no heed to the marshmallow's complaints. He dropped the creature to the ground and took a minute to scan their new surroundings. They were on a high, narrow ledge, and below them lay a large concrete platform stained various nasty shades of green and brown. A moat of cesspool water surrounded the square platform. In the far right corner was an old machine that was belching out more of the liquid. "Ugh, the smell's even worse here," Bomberman complained, wrinkling his nose.

Pommy immediately shot to attention. "Ew, what _is _that smell?" he squealed, pinching his nose. "Pommy can't sleep in these conditions!"

"Good, because I might be needing some assistance here." Bomberman hopped down and made his way over to the moss-covered machine, which took up the whole corner of the moat. Old and rusty, it stopped working for a few seconds when Bomberman kicked it. "On second thought, I wouldn't even need to use a bomb for this thing. One good hit is all it needs."

Pommy joined him a few seconds later in studying the contraption. "Pommy thinks that if we destroy this machine, the sewer water will stop!"

"But even if it does," Bomberman said, placing a foot on top of it, "what good will that do us?"

"Pommy saw a passageway through a pipe flowing with water back some time ago. If we shut off this source, maybe it'll be clear and we can get out through there!"

Bomberman shrugged and decided to trust the creampuff, knowing that doing so was about as safe as lighting matches in a fireworks warehouse. But as it was, it didn't seem like he had any other choice. As he geared up for the massive kick, an earthquake suddenly shook the room, tossing Bomberman to the ground. "I wouldn't count on getting out if I were you!" grumbled an otherworldly voice.

The center of the platform started bubbling, glowing a blinding shade of red. A large sphere of fire materialized, dissipating dramatically to reveal a young man around Bomberman's age dressed in red-orange armor over an ultramarine undersuit. His hair was bright orange with streaks of red and gold, and his eyes (at least, the one not covered by his chi detector) burned brilliant crimson. "Hello, dear mortal," he said, a malicious grin marring his handsome features. "And how's your day going?"

"Just fan-freaking-tastic, thanks for asking," Bomberman retorted, getting to his feet. "And who the hell are you?"

"Myu, he probably _came_ from hell," Pommy piped up.

"...Pommy, do you even know what hell is?"

"Myu, not really."

Bomberman rolled his eyes. "Oy."

"If you must know, I am one of the BHB Army's 7 Astral Knights," explained the young man, holding a fist to his chest for emphasis. "I am the Crimson Flame, Baelfael!"

_A little impressed with himself, the nerd_, Bomberman thought, fighting the urge to laugh hysterically.

"I was told that the Fire Stone was here," Baelfael continued. "I didn't expect escaped prisoners."

"What _did_ you expect, a talking tomato and his cucumber sidekick?"

Baelfael snorted. "Oh, a snarky one, aren't we?" he remarked. "This should be fun."

"Somehow I get the feeling that the feeling won't be mutual." Bomberman crossed his arms. "So what do you want?"

"What else? I want that Elemental Stone of yours—your Fire Stone!"

Bomberman creased his brow in thought and suspicion. "That's it?"

Baelfael laughed. "Ah, I knew you'd understand! I'll take it now, if you please." He took a step forward, an outstretched hand awaiting the arrival of the gem.

"Whoah, whoah, wait! Who said I was gonna give it to you?" Bomberman backed away, hands up in defense. "I just asked if all you wanted was this Fire Stone."

"And your tone of voice when you asked that implied that it was no problem for you to hand it over to someone who can utilize it better. Namely, our leader, Rukifellth."

This snippet of information caused Bomberman to pause for a moment. General Jun, the head of Bomber Base, had told Bomberman that the Fire Stone was attuned only to the powers of other bombers. So why did Baelfael want it so badly? He wasn't giving off the aura of a bomber, so he wouldn't able to do much of anything with the Fire Stone except maybe pawn it off on the black market. There was the possibility that Baelfael was some long-lost native of Bomber Star, but Bomberman highly doubted that since no one he knew looked that weird. The more likely possibility was that the Rukifellth person Baelfael had mentioned was a lazy-ass bomber who wanted it for his own personal use in torturing puppies or something.

"Ah, you seem to be pondering your decision," Baelfael observed. "Let me put forth something that may help you." His flame-colored eyes flashed red. "Hand over the Fire Stone," he threatened, "and you'll be able to keep your pathetic life."

"Myu!" Pommy whimpered, hanging onto Bomberman's leg. "That guy looks tough! D'you think we should just give him the stone and get out of here? There's still so much food that Pommy hasn't eaten yet!"

"Are you crazy?" Bomberman hissed. "The Fire Stone is my home planet's treasure! I'm not giving it up just because some stupid punker wants it!"

Pommy looked disappointed. "Well...um...two-on-one's not really fair, so...Pommy will watch from over there!" The creature pointed to a corner of the platform that was below the ledge they had come from.

"What's the matter?" Bomberman taunted. "I thought you were a hero! Are you scared?"

"Pommy's not scared!" Pommy insisted. "Pommy's just being fair!" And he scurried off to hide.

Bomberman rolled his eyes again and turned to Baelfael. "Well, did you hear that? I'm not giving up the Fire Stone and you can't make me!" He stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes at the young man standing across from him.

"Do you pay no heed to the words of an Astral Knight?" demanded Baelfael.

"I pay no heed to the words of cosplaying morons, that's for sure," Bomberman shot back.

The Astral Knight narrowed his eyes. "So, you wish to fight, then?"

"Not really," the bomber answered, "but if you insist, I really don't want to be rude."

"If you will not hand over your Elemental, then I _do_ insist on a fight! And since you seem to be adamant about keeping the Fire Stone..." Baelfael flashed his palms out towards Bomberman. "Hah!"

Red veiled Bomberman's vision for a second, and he felt a tiny jolt go through his body. He staggered. "What the heck did you..." he started.

"Don't worry, you're still intact." Baelfael chuckled. "Can't say the same for your remote, though."

"Damn!" Bomberman felt for the now-disabled device in his pocket. "How did you—?"

"I can tell from your aura. You're a bomber, aren't you? A pyrokinetic, to be exact." Baelfael smirked and gave Bomberman a superior look. "This place is a machine junkyard in addition to being a prison. Surely you must have found something to configure into a remote control for your explosives."

Bomberman snickered. "So you're not as dumb as you look, eh?"

The entire place rumbled and shook, causing the sewer water to crash against the mottled walls. "Fool!" Baelfael snarled. "You'll regret defying the power of an Astral Knight _and_ the greatest genius in the universe!" He clenched his fists, and a wavering orange aura surrounded him. "Let's see which is stronger—my flames, or your bombs!" He swung his hand in Bomberman's direction, letting loose a wave of sizzling flames. "I daresay it's the former! Fire Phoenix!"

_FWOOOOM!_

Bomberman dived down in time to avoid being fried. He had barely gotten off the ground when another stream of fire sailed towards him. He rolled to the side, jumped up to avoid a third attack, and hurled three explosives at Baelfael.

Baelfael deflected the first two bombs, but was hit with the third. He growled, and his aura flared up again, brighter and larger. "You'll pay for your insolence with your _life!_"

Bomberman crossed his arms in front of his face to protect himself from the searing heat of Baelfael's flames. Unfortunately, this meant that he was too late in seeing an orange-colored chi blast headed his way.

_FWWOOM-SLAMM!_

"Augh!" The force of the attack blew Bomberman back into the concrete wall below the ledge, dangerously close to the edge of the platform. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Pyroblast!"

_BOOOM!_

"WAAAAH!" The force of the explosion, while missing Bomberman, sent him tumbling off the platform. His flailing arms quickly grabbed hold of the edge, and so he dangled for dear life as the sewer water swished ominously beneath him. Fighting the urge to panic, Bomberman managed to climb back up onto safer ground. Upon spotting Baelfael running towards him, he crouched and greeted him with a sweep-kick.

Baelfael jumped to evade.

Bomberman rolled under the airborne knight and righted himself, conjuring two bombs and flinging them at Baelfael.

_BOOM! BOOM!_

There was a lull in the fight as smoke filled the area. Bomberman heard Baelfael coughing and sputtering somewhere from behind the gray haze, and he smiled. "Not so hot now, are you, Mr. Hot-Shot?" Bomberman called.

"Ah, your wordplays are most witty," Baelfael responded sarcastically, emerging from the smoke. "HAAAH!"

Bomberman swiftly stepped to the side to avoid Baelfael's incoming fist, then grabbed Baelfael's arm, pivoted, and dropped his weight to slam the knight to the ground.

_THUD!_

The momentum caused Baelfael to flip over himself and fall hard onto his back. He groaned, the wind knocked out of him.

Bomberman came down onto Baelfael's face with a punch.

Baelfael jerked out of the way at the last moment.

_SLA-MASH!_

A slight crack in the concrete formed from the impact of Bomberman's fist.

Baelfael heaved his lower torso up and helicopter-kicked his way back to a standing position, his foot catching Bomberman in the side of the face.

_WHAM!_

Bomberman staggered backwards from the blow, but managed to stay upright. He rubbed his cheek and glared at his opponent, then settled into a battle stance.

Baelfael wiped some grime from his face. "Not bad, my friend, not bad," he said. "A martial artist as well? This fight just got a little more interesting."

Bomberman cracked his semi-sore fingers. "Yeah? Well, you're still as boring as my high school chemistry textbook!"

"_Rrrrraaugh!_" Baelfael charged him again, a hand curled at his side—engulfed in flames.

"Aaaaah!_"_ The punch barely missed Bomberman's face, but the fire ignited the ends of his bangs. Bomberman licked his fingers and pinched the small flames out of existence. "Hey! What's the idea?"

"Nothing," Baelfael said, hand still enveloped in an orange veil of heat. "Just another move in my arsenal, that's all."

"That's sneaky!" Bomberman ducked to evade another fiery punch from Baelfael.

"What's sneaky?" The Astral Knight aimed a blazing roundhouse kick at Bomberman, who somersaulted backwards to escape being scalded. "It's a very simple matter of channeling my powers into my physical attacks!"

Bomberman ducked another kick from Baelfael and tripped him. "Well, channel _this!_" he yelled, slamming a bomb right into Baelfael's body.

_BOOOM!_

Both were hit by the blast, forcing them apart from each other. Baelfael skidded across the floor, wincing.

Bomberman curled his right hand slightly, charging up a super-explosive. "Eat pyrokinetic dust!" he scowled. "HAH!" And he launched the bomb at the fallen Baelfael.

_KA-BOOOM!_

The bomb went up in a spectacular display of flames and smoke, lighting up the entire room. Bomberman jumped backwards to avoid getting hit by his own attack again. He let out a breath as the fire burned, trying to keep the idea of victory from his mind until he was sure that he had won. But there was no way Baelfael could have avoided that one, not in his state. _Ha! This is game, set and—_

_FWOOOSH!_

Suddenly, all the flames vanished into thin air.

Bomberman blinked. "The hell?"

Baelfael was standing now, back in the running. He was surrounded in his orange aura again, but this time it seemed much more menacing. "Foolish boy," Baelfael said, grinning. "Fire is my plaything! I can manipulate it at will!" He glowed brightly. "Thanks for all the fire! _Pyroblast!_"

_**BOOOOM!**_

Bomberman was hit by a giant, explosive ball of pain.

"_AAUUUGH!_" he screamed, crumpling to the ground. His clothes were singed and sizzling; his skin was red and blistered. He tried to move, but winced at the effort. "Oh, man," he wheezed, slumping down again. "This is going to leave a mark, I just know it..."

Baelfael strode up to the bomber and smirked down at him. "I have to admit, you almost had me there," he said, showing off the severe burn marks at various places on his body. "Almost, of course, being the key word." He knelt down and held out his hand. "Since you were such a good fighter, I'll give you one last chance to live. Hand over the Fire Stone."

A long pause.

The two fire warriors glared at each other.

Slowly...painfully...Bomberman's fingers crawled over to get the Fire Stone from his sweatshirt pocket.

He drew it out.

Baelfael's grin widened.

Bomberman offered it up.

Baelfael's hand reached for it.

...Bomberman grinned.

"Psych," he said.

Baelfael blinked. "What?"

Bomberman dropped the Fire Stone.

_CL-CLINK!_

He grabbed Baelfael's wrist, pulled it down, and straightened up to drive an elbow right into Baelfael's face.

_WHAM!_

"Aagh!" Baelfael's hands flew to his face.

Bomberman shot a foot up to kick Baelfael in the gut.

Baelfael stumbled back from the hit, reeling. He reached up to gingerly touch the blood bubbling from his nose. He stared at the crimson liquid on his fingertips in disbelief, then snarled. "Why, you..."

Bomberman smiled and quickly re-pocketed the gem, fighting the urge to grimace at the pain of moving. "Fire might be your plaything," he said, "but you of all people should know it doesn't play nice."

Baelfael frowned, wiping away the blood from his face. "Oh, I see. Is that how we're going to do this?" He clenched his fists. "Fine by me! You will see hell by my hands that you could never have conceived!"

"Less talk, more action," Bomberman answered, tossing a bomb at Baelfael.

Baelfael dodged, and the bomb plopped harmlessly into the moat. He charged Bomberman, his fiery fists ready to go.

Bomberman side-stepped.

Baelfael tried a shove a fist into Bomberman's stomach.

Bomberman side-stepped again.

Baelfael threw a burning right hook.

It hit home in Bomberman's cheek.

_WHAM!_

"Agh!" Bomberman winced, nearly falling over. His eyes teared up from the heat. "Damn! The same side he hit before!"

"Hah!" Baelfael's leg kicked out.

Thinking fast, Bomberman's arm circled around it, catching it in the crook of his elbow. "HYAH!" He leapt up and slammed a foot into Baelfael's nose. Using the momentum from his kick, Bomberman vaulted off Baelfael, turned around mid-air, and flipped forward, landing deftly on his feet. He swiveled around, his right hand already charging up another super-bomb.

Baelfael was a sight to behold. In addition to having a blood-smeared, slightly burned face, he also had a black eye to boot. His chi detector was also cracked. "Rrrrrghh..." He held out his hands, cupping them together and drawing fire into his palms. "This will end here and now, mortal!" Elemental energy swirled around him, adding to his power.

The magical winds roared through the arena, pushing Bomberman back and nearly causing him to lose his footing. "Nngh..." He had his arm up again to shield his eyes from the brightness. Drawing on the last of his strength, Bomberman reared back and flung the super-bomb at Baelfael.

Baelfael chose that same moment to launch his most powerful fire attack yet. "_Fire Phoenix Reborn!_"

The resulting explosion turned the platform into hell.

_**FWOOOOM-BAAAMMM!**_

Bomberman threw caution to the wind and took cover by dangling off the ledge again.

Baelfael let out a wailing scream of agony and surprise.

Bomberman simpered as he clutched the edge.

As soon as the blaze began to die down, Bomberman hoisted himself up again, grimacing at his freshly seared fingers. He caught his breath for a few seconds before checking on how the knight was doing.

Baelfael was on the ground, hunched over. It looked like he had taken the full force of the explosion. "Ugh...m-my energy," he muttered, struggling to his feet. "It's..." He was upright for three seconds before he collapsed again. His eyes settled on Bomberman. "You!"

"Er, yeah...it's me," Bomberman stuttered.

"That Fire Stone...you don't have it just b-because, do you?" Baelfael said hoarsely.

"N-no," replied Bomberman, not knowing what he was trying to get at. "It was something I inherited that increases my firepower." He wasn't quite sure whether he should have mentioned that little fact, but it was too late now. Besides, the Astral Knight had found it out for himself.

Baelfael spat onto the ground. "I was wondering why...y-your explosives seemed stronger than the usual bomber's...my chi detector d-didn't detect any ch-change...in the energy levels whenever you...you produced explosives." He sighed. "I can't believe I was d-defeated so easily. Disabled by m-my own element...because I underestimated it..."

"Myu!" Pommy, now reassured that no weird guy in a funky costume was going to get him, proudly joined Bomberman. "We did it, Bomberman! Pommy's cheering helped a lot, didn't it?"

Bomberman glared at Pommy. "Oh, yeah, you sure were there for me when Baelfael tried to bake me and serve me up for dinner."

"Myu..." Pommy pouted. "Bomberman's mad at Pommy!"

"Hmph," Baelfael grunted, fighting to stay conscious for a while longer. "Enjoy your victory while you can, bomber. Other knights...more p-powerful than I...are waiting for you..."

"Other people like you?" Pommy was incredulous, his eyes wide with terror.

"They w-won't give up," continued Baelfael, fading fast, "not as long as you hold that Fire Stone. You'll s-see..." He vanished in the same explosion of fire that he appeared in. His parting words echoed around the room. "We'll meet again...beyond...the veil..."

Bomberman stared for a while at where Baelfael had once been. "...what in the world is that supposed to mean?"

A silence fell.

Bomberman closed his eyes.

Pommy looked worriedly at Bomberman.

Bomberman laughed in disbelief. "Wow," he muttered, falling to his knees. "What a way to end a vacation." He shook his head. "What a way..."

Pommy fidgeted, not sure what to say. "Ah...um..." he started.

Bomberman let out a long sigh. His shoulders visibly sagged.

"Is...is Bomberman okay?" Pommy asked meekly.

"Nngh..." Bomberman ran a hand through his now-dirty white hair and took a deep breath. "I should be used to this by now," he murmured. "Guess old deaths die hard." Upon seeing Pommy staring inquiringly at him, he waved him off. "I'll be fine."

"Is Bomberman sure?"

"As sure as I can be in this—ow!—situation." Bomberman grimaced as he tried to assess the damage to his body.

Pommy clapped his hands. "Well, we're sure of one thing now. The name of the people who captured us is the BHB Army, whatever BHB stands for. Or if they're not the ones who captured us, that's the group Baelfael was part of."

"I'm guessing I got dragged into something here," Bomberman said. "A really big, important something. That I'm not going to like. At all."

Pommy tugged on Bomberman's sweatshirt. "Baelfael said there's more people like him around. Will Bomberman be strong enough to beat them all?"

Bomberman snorted. "Judging from the way I took this battle, it looks like I'll be dead pretty soon," he said, looking at himself. "But I don't have any choice but to fight if I wanna get back home." His voice faltered with his last sentence.

"Then it's settled!" Pommy declared, striking some sort of heroic pose. "Pommy and Bomberman are gonna beat up the other guys like Baelfael and get out! Now let's go destroy that machine!"

Bomberman wondered exactly where Pommy was getting all of this energy from. _Well,_ he thought, _Pommy didn't have to deal with some freak trying to toast him._

After Bomberman managed to pull himself up, the two walked over to the machine together. "Myu, shall Pommy let Bomberman have the first kick?" he asked, looking gleeful.

Bomberman took a deep breath.

Then...

_BAM!_

"Take that, you stupid piece of junk!"

_CHNK!_

"And that!"

_SMASH!_

"And _that!_"

_BAM!_

"_And that!_"

_WHAM! CRASH! BAM!_

Pommy slowly inched away from the clearly mechacidal Bomberman, a concerned expression on his face. "Myu...Pommy fears for Bomberman's sanity now..."

"_DIE, YOU INEFFICIENT, CESSWATER-SPEWING, PILE OF OXIDIZED SCRAP METAL!_" With that thusly uttered, Bomberman unleashed one final blow.

_SLA-MASH!_

The decrepit device broke down, smoking and sparking and screeching. The sewer water ceased its flow, and began to drain from the moat.

"Yay!" Pommy jumped up and down. "Pommy thinks that now we'll be able to get deeper into the tunnels!"

"Whatever good that'll do us." Bomberman wasn't feeling particularly optimistic at the moment, although he had to admit that beating up on the machine had been a great way to let out some of the stress that was quickly piling up on his shoulders.

The sound of footsteps knocked on Bomberman's eardrums, prompting him to listen. He whirled around, fearing another fight with one of Baelfael's cronies.

Instead, a young woman smiled at him, holding up a peaceful palm. "Hey," she greeted.

He gawked at her, completely letting his guard down.

"Don't worry," she said, "I'm not looking for a fight."

"Er...that's...that's great. Yeah. Great." Bomberman continued to gape at the goddess who had deigned to grace a humble and unworthy mortal like himself with her presence. She had a fantastic figure—not an anorexic one, but a healthy one, with some muscle. A few strands of her short red hair fluttered over her slightly tanned face. Bomberman valiantly tried not to let his eyes wander any lower than the woman's neck. It didn't help that her two main pieces of real estate were...substantial, to say the least. _Man oh man, they just don't make 'em like that at Bomber Base,_ thought Bomberman, who could already feel his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest.

"My name's Lilith," she said, introducing herself. "I was kidnapped by the BHB Army, but I managed to break out of my cell and decided to head here to face off against Baelfael. It looks like you did my job for me, though." She tilted her head to one side. "You okay there?"

Bomberman simpered. "I'll...I'll be fine."

"Myu!" Pommy chirped. "Lilith's cute! Pommy likes Lilith!"

"Hmm?" Lilith took notice of the awe-stricken Pommy, and smiled at him. "Well, hello! And who might you be?"

"Pommy's name is Pommy!" The puffball grinned a sickeningly happy grin.

"Nice to meet you, Pommy." Lilith patted Pommy on top of his head, and Pommy flushed with pleasure. She turned to Bomberman. "And what about you?"

"Me?" Bomberman was struck dumb for a moment. "Uh...my name, right?" he stuttered, feeling even more like a loser than usual. "I'm Bomberman..."

"Then it's nice to meet you as well, Bomberman." A serious frown replaced her sunny smile. "Would you mind if I asked you something?"

"Ask away."

"When you fought Baelfael, did he have anything with him? A gem, possibly? He and the other knights are supposed to have some sort of gems with them."

Bomberman racked his brain to remember this detail. Only the memory of the fight came to mind. From what he could tell, he hadn't seemed to be carrying anything, and Bomberman told her so.

"He didn't have anything?" There was a perplexed expression on her face. "If that were the case, that would mean they didn't find them yet. But then why...?"

Bomberman and Pommy looked on, very content with simply watching her.

"Oh!" Lilith glanced up, startled. "Don't mind me, I'm just talking to myself. It's a healthy thing, really it is." She walked over to Bomberman. "Thanks for your help." She smiled. "Now I'll have to return the favor."

Upon hearing the word "favor," Bomberman's head was suddenly flooded with images of a questionable nature.

However, Lilith had nothing of the sort in mind, instead reaching into one of her pockets and withdrawing a round metal container. She unscrewed the top to reveal a clear gel. "This is a medicinal balm," Lilith explained, carefully smearing some of it on Bomberman's cheek. "It should help with your injuries a bit."

Bomberman blushed hotly at the gentle touch of her fingers. He gulped down any words of gratitude he might have had, not trusting himself to speak coherently. He was even more speechless when the pain from his face began to dissipate almost as soon as the gel made contact with his skin.

After finishing, Lilith closed the container again and then placed it in his hand. "This is good for a lot of things—aches, cuts, bruises, burns, things like that," she said. "And it's yours to keep."

"Wh-what?" Bomberman stammered, hardly believing the past few minutes had just happened. "No, no! I'll just go and buy some for myself! Where'd you get this stuff?"

"Oh." Though he wasn't sure, Bomberman thought he saw a trace of sadness flash across her face. "A friend gave it to me."

"Then that's all the more reason for you to keep it!"

Lilith laughed. "You'll need it far more than I will, no offense or anything." She stepped back and leapt up onto the ledge—an amazing feat considering the ledge was at least seven or eight feet above the main platform. "Well, I'll be off now. Oh, and if you're looking to get out of this black hole," Lilith added, "you'll need to find the Gravity Generator on this place."

"The what?" Bomberman felt disgruntled. "Don't I just need to figure out the minimum velocity required to escape the gravity pull of the black hole?"

Lilith laughed again. "If it were that easy, I'd already be out of here. No, we're dealing with an artificial singularity created by machines called Gravity Generators."

"Artificial? Well, that explains a lot..."

"From the gossip I've heard passed around by the BHB soldiers, the BHB Army created this black hole by using the generators to suck in planets. In turn, the gravitational energy from the planets are amplified and used to support the black hole. Each planet in this black hole should have a generator, so if you manage to somehow get to those planets and disable the generators, the black hole should disappear." She shrugged. "I'd like to go after the generators myself, but..."

"Don't worry, Lilith!" Pommy said. "We'll look for those machines."

"All right, then. I'll see you around!" With that, Lilith turned around and demonstrated another strange ability—disappearing through the solid concrete wall like a ghost.

"Myu..." Pommy said in wonder. "Lilith sure was a cutie, huh?"

"Cutie?" Bomberman exclaimed. "Try 'total hottie'!"


	4. Alcatraz: Jail Break

After the chance meeting with the bombshell called Lilith, the one-bomber-one-creampuff crew proceeded to pick their way through the sewer prison. Backtracking to the main waterway, they found that Pommy's hypothesis had indeed been correct. With the water flow stopped, there was another passage to be explored.

They trekked quietly through the gigantic pipe tunnel, the scum squishing beneath their feet. "Hey, Bomberman," Pommy said, breaking the silence, "you know those gems Lilith was talking about?"

_Barely. _"What about them?"

"You think they might be like your Fire Stone?"

"What would be the point if they were?"

Pommy looked offended. "Myu! Pommy's just speculating, trying to make conversation! Bomberman didn't have to get all huffy!"

Bomberman sighed. "Sorry," he said. "I'm just not in a good mood right now. I'm sure you can imagine why."

"Myu...Pommy supposes so." Pommy glanced away. "Pommy's sorry."

"Heh." Bomberman turned left at an intersection. "What can you do? Crap happens, and sometimes you happen to step in it." He took another step...and suddenly made a face.

Pommy stopped. "Bomberman?"

Bomberman slowly lifted up his foot.

A mess of brown decorated the sole of his white sneaker.

"Oh, yuck!" Pommy screeched, covering his eyes with his ears. "That's just gross!"

Bomberman sighed again. _Looks like I'm going to have to invest in a new pair of sneakers._

B-O-M-B

Ten more minutes of walking led the duo into another jail-wing, lined with rows of empty jail cells. It also happened to be lined with more BHB soldiers.

Bomberman stopped in his tracks when he saw them. "Oh, crap..."

The soldiers snapped to attention.

"Eek!" Pommy yelped. "They saw us!"

Bomberman gritted his teeth and began to conjure two bombs in his hands. "And they're going to regret they ever did!" he yelled, flinging his arms forward. "HAAAH!"

_BOOM! BOOM!_

Four soldiers fell victim to the explosions.

Three more opened fire on Bomberman with their guns.

_SPANG! SPANG! SPANG!_

Pommy scurried for safety. "Myu!"

Bomberman quickly dove to the ground and tossed a bomb at their feet. He reached for his jean pocket to hit the remote button, then remembered that Baelfael had undone all of his hard work. "If that jerk weren't already dead, I'd kill him for this," Bomberman muttered.

_BOOM!_

"Myu! Somebody help Pommy!"

Bomberman turned.

Two soldiers had cornered Pommy, clutching spiked clubs in their hands and leering.

"Not so fast!" Bomberman raced up and grabbed one of the soldiers by the shoulders, tossing him at another who was trying to join the fight. Both of them fell back in a tangled heap. _FWUMP!_

"Huh?" The second soldier looked up in surprise.

Pommy took this opportunity to chomp into his leg.

The soldier bellowed and dropped his club.

Bomberman snatched the club and quickly rammed it into the soldier's skull.

_WHAM!_

The soldier conked out.

Another one came running up, waving a machete.

Bomberman twisted around and hurled the club...right into the soldier's groin.

_WHOMP!_

The soldier's eyes went impossibly wide. He crumpled to the ground, squeaking in pain.

Bomberman smirked. "Annie Oakley couldn't have done it better," he said, making a break for the door. "Let's motor!"

Pommy scurried after him, leaving the beaten battalion behind.

The pair sprinted through the cinderblock corridors until they were sure that no one was chasing them. Then they slowed to a walk, huffing and puffing. As they strolled the dimly-lit hallways, Bomberman noticed a door to his left reading "Warden." "A warden, huh?" he said, reaching for the handle. "Well, I'm sure he won't mind me dropping in to ask where the cafeteria is."

The office was empty, with meaningless papers strewn all over the desk and un-watered houseplants sitting on file cabinets. Much to Bomberman's dismay, the only edible item in sight was a plate of food so moldy that not even he was desperate enough to try and stomach it. There was, however, a comfy-looking couch, and Bomberman plopped down on it. "Whew!" he said. "Looks like we might be able to rest here for a while." He pulled out his remote. "And maybe I'll be able to re-configure my remote while I'm at it..."

Pommy joined Bomberman on the couch, bouncing up and down on it a few times. "Wow!" he said. "This is a really nice couch! Pommy likes it!"

Bomberman looked at Pommy.

Pommy stopped bouncing. "What?"

"Pommy."

"Yes?"

"Would you like to do something very important for me?"

B-O-M-B

"Myu!" Pommy grumbled, pacing the floor in front of the door to the office. "Bomberman tricked Pommy! This isn't important at all! This is boring and stupid! Pommy should bite Bomberman's head off, and cook it with red wine and cranberries and herbs, and feed it to the homeless, and..." The puffball continued to think up bloodier schemes to get back at Bomberman as he performed his impromptu guard duty.

B-O-M-B

Meanwhile, the object of Pommy's vengeance was lying down on the couch, exhausted after having completed a second remote configuration. Bomberman was drifting in and out of sleep, bothered by thoughts of his current situation.

_Hokay. So I'm in a black hole with a brainless creampuff. The black hole is artificial. It was created by machines that we have to go destroy on other planets. And I got my ass kicked by some fire-breathing nerd. And I also killed that fire-breathing nerd. And I met Lilith, who's really cute and really nice and really...not going to be interested in a loser like me. _Despite this depressing thought, Bomberman smiled at the memory of the redhead. _Wonder if I'll see her again? If she's trapped in this black hole like I am, we have to run into each other again. Right?_

Bomberman sighed. This wasn't looking good at all. He knew what he had to do: go to whatever planets were in the black hole and destroy their Gravity Generators. But that was complicated by two factors: he currently had no way to travel to those planets, and he was apparently going to be chased by more crazies like Baelfael. Crazies who were stronger than Baelfael. And therefore, most likely a hundred times stronger than Bomberman. _I'm totally going to die, _Bomberman lamented, shifting from lying on his back to lying on his side, and wincing at the effect the movement had on his not-quite-yet-healed burns. Now he didn't even have any background information or ongoing reconnaissance to help him work out a plan, and no way to call his allies at Bomber Base for backup. He was going to be fumbling in the dark without a flashlight.

After a few minutes more of shallow sleep, Bomberman got up from the couch, cracking various joints as he did so. He decided it was probably best not to linger too long—the mess he and Pommy had caused was bound to get some attention from a higher-up around here. If he was going to die, he wanted to postpone it as long as possible. Bomberman began to go through the papers scattered on the desk, hoping to find information about the Gravity Generator or the BHB Army.


	5. Alcatraz: Take Me To Your Generator

Pommy slumped tiredly against the wall. "Myu..." he whimpered. "All that plotting out loud made Pommy really tired. And now Pommy's really thirsty, too. Is there a water fountain around here?" He got up again and trotted down the hallway.

After navigating a turn, Pommy soon hit upon one near a bathroom. "Yay!" He promptly climbed onto it and began to quench his thirst. The marshmallow indulged in the lukewarm drink, gulping it in gallons. "Hee..."

"...freakin' intruders..."

Pommy stopped mid-gulp.

"Hey, I'm not complaining," came another voice, slightly muffled by the thick bathroom door. "It's been boring around here. I mean, ever since that Rukifellth guy took all the prisoners back with him for whatever, we haven't even had anything to beat up on." A laugh. "And beating on you guys gets old pretty fast."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

More voices joined in the chatter. Intrigued, Pommy extended one floppy ear to better eavesdrop on their conversation, teetering precariously on the edge of the fountain.

"Did you all see that one redhead chick that was walking around?" someone asked, whistling. "Damn, now she was one fine piece of—"

"Assassin, the warden said!" exclaimed another. "I told him, hell no, she wasn't no assassin, don't be bullshitting me! What was a nice girl like her doing in a place like this?"

"Probably got sucked into the black hole."

"You don't see girls like her every day."

"She kinda reminded me of Naomi, yanno."

"What? She was nothing like her! Naomi's fatter than her."

"Well, I mean, the way she walked, and those eyes, and..."

"She was a hell of a lot prettier than Naomi."

"I'm with stupid. Ow! You didn't have to hit that hard!"

"Don't be hatin' on my girl, now!"

"We're not!"

"We're just stating the truth!"

"Hmph! Try this on for truth: I heard that Rukifellth's got dibs on that redhead."

Silence.

"_What?_"

"Where the hell'd you hear that?"

"Overheard talk from the big kahuna with the other big kahunas. Said something like Rukifellth had an 'interest' in her or something."

"The warden said this?"

"No, no, the other big kahuna. The one that the new people keep calling 'Master Baelfael.' And it wasn't him, it was someone he was talking to."

"Well, damn!"

"You're joking, right?"

"I'm an asshole, but I don't lie."

"There goes another angel out of my reach..."

"You've already got yourself a harem of girls! What are you complaining about? You might want to share some of them with us, you know."

"Are women all you guys ever think about? No wonder your performance reports are so crappy."

"Oh, and is booze all _you_ ever think about? I swear, with you it's sake in the morning, vodka in the evening, and whiskey at suppertime! No wonder you never go to report us to the warden! Too damn wasted to find the door even if it was right in front of your face!"

"Well, guess what? Just for that, I'm gonna go visit the warden right now and report y'all for slacking off on the job."

"What! Oh, hey, come on, we were just joking with the booze comment! Don't be so touchy!"

"Yeah, man! I need this job! Ain't no other way I can get food!"

"Ha! Got you there."

"...you really are a bastard."

"I do have to go see him, though. I've gotta report the disappearance of two of them newbies and the apparent escape of the guy they were guarding—the one who just got caught in the black hole. I'll see you guys around. Save some of the sake for me, will you?"

"That's the only reason we have it. Give me beer any day."

Pommy almost tumbled to the floor. "Oh, no!" he said. "We're in trouble!" And he took off down the hall at top speed.

B-O-M-B

Bomberman slammed his palms down onto the desk, knocking off a number of papers he'd been looking through. "This is no help!" he said, frowning. "These are all printouts of online erotica...and cheesy erotica at that!" He slid into the chair and rested his elbows on the desk. "I'll have to check the file cabinets, then..."

Suddenly, there was panicked pounding on the door. "Myu! Let Pommy in! We've got trouble!"

Bomberman quickly opened the door to let Pommy squeeze through, then closed it. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Someone—one of the guards—is coming here! He wants to talk to the warden!"

"What?"

"There's a guard coming! We need to hide!"

"_You_ can hide, but what about me? I'm kinda a little too big to bury myself in the couch cushions."

"Well, maybe we if we run now..."

"No, then the guard might see us leaving!"

_Knock, knock_. "Warden? Warden, it's me, Jalen. I need to talk to you about something."

Bomberman and Pommy looked at each other. "What do we do?" Pommy whispered.

The knocking continued. "Are you there, Warden?"

Bomberman spotted a coat and a hat hanging on a rack on the wall. "I've got an idea..."

B-O-M-B

With the invitation from the warden, the guard entered the office. "Sorry to barge in on your busy work, Warden," he began, "but we've got a situation. There have—" He stopped mid-sentence.

The warden was sitting at his desk, hands folded in front of him and his head tilted down. His large hat obscured most of his face. He was also wearing his coat...even though it was sweltering inside the office.

The guard blinked. "Warden?"

"Go on," the warden said in a deep voice. "What's the situation?"

"Well...there've been disappearances today. Two of those new guys. They were guarding the guy that we found in the wreckage of that one spacecraft. That guy's missing, too."

"You don't say. What's he look like?"

"According to their shoddy report, he was young, and had white hair and brown eyes..."

Bomberman suddenly looked up and grinned. "Y'mean like me?"

The guard did a double-take. "Hey..." he started, pointing.

"Myu! Face the wrath of Pommy!" Pommy suddenly sprang up from behind Bomberman and landed on top of Bomberman's head before jumping out at the guard, chomping onto his nose.

"_AAAUGH!_" The guard ran backwards into a wall, surprised by the sudden ambush. "Get off me, you damn mutt!"

"_Myuuuuu!_"

Bomberman got up and smiled, taking off the hat.

After a few more frantic moments of cursing and staggering, the guard finally managed to yank Pommy off and send him flying to the ground. "You little sonuvabitch," he snarled, rubbing his nose. "Taste plasma and see if you like biting _that!_" He reached for his gun at his side...

"Looking for this?"

The guard glanced up...and found himself staring down the barrel of his own laser gun.

Bomberman flicked on the charge button on the side of the weapon with his thumb. "Show me the Gravity Generator room," he said.

B-O-M-B

Bomberman still had the guard at gunpoint when he and Pommy walked through the sliding metal doors to the Gravity Generator room. It was dark save for the few blinking lights of functioning machines and a lone fluorescent light in the middle of the ceiling. "Myu," Pommy said, turning to the guard, "is this really it?"

The guard nodded, sweating.

"Well, it doesn't really look like a hotel suite." Bomberman's head indicated a direction. "And there's our new friend."

To the left of them was a large, roughly squarish device surrounded by a bluish force field.

Pommy frowned. "Drat! It's got a weird barrier around it! We'll have to break through before we can destroy that thing."

Bomberman poked the guard's neck with the gun. "Hey, how are we supposed to disable the shield? Or the machine, for that matter?"

"I-I don't know," the guard stammered. "We weren't t-told how to d-do that. We were j-just ordered t-to help those n-new people—the guys in black—to b-build this place."

"I see."

The guard sweated some more.

"In that case..." Bomberman grinned. "Thanks for your help!" He slammed the butt of the gun against the side of the guard's neck.

The guard choked and sputtered before slumping to the ground.

_FWUMP!_

Pommy stared at the now-unconscious form of the guard sprawled on the floor. He shivered. "Myu...B-Bomberman's scary..."

With no hostage to keep him busy, Bomberman stepped forward to take a better look around. His trained vision noticed a quartet of identical towers located at various points around the room. "Too easy!" he said, laughing. "Obviously those things are important to the generator somehow. I'll either have to destroy them or break a code, and I'm opting for the former." He crossed his arms and grinned. "This shouldn't be too hard. At least there isn't anyone else around!"

_WEEE-O! WEEE-O!_

An alarm sounded, accompanied by red lights that illuminated the dark mechanical room, giving it a sinister atmosphere. Soldiers, robots, and mutant creatures alike poured onto the playing field, intent on Bomberman's destruction. "This should not surprise me," he muttered.

"Myu!" Pommy went to hide in the nearest corner.

Bomberman sighed, twirling the laser gun on his finger. Should he have expected anything else? But he decided that his first priority was to get rid of the baddies first and deal with the puffball later.

An army of rats suddenly came stampeding towards Bomberman.

"Oh no you don't!" Bomberman fired off a barrage of charged laser shots from his stolen gun. On realizing that the creatures were far too fast for his horrible aim, he switched back to his usual M.O. of explosives, still holding the gun. He conjured a bomb and tossed it at them, then reached down to activate the remote control.

Nothing happened.

Bomberman blinked. He pressed the button repeatedly.

The explosive flashed dangerously, indicating an automatic countdown. Bomberman ran out of the way in time to avoid the blast. "Don't tell me there's something here that screws up my remote control," he groaned. "How many times am I going to have to fix this damn thing?"

"Die!" A soldier slashed at him with a bayonet.

Bomberman evaded the weapon, then fired two shots, hitting the soldier in the collarbone. As the soldier gurgled in pain, Bomberman did a quick look-over of the pylon he had just found. "Hmm..." he mused. "No control panel in sight. That means...it's demolition time!" He set a bomb down at the base of the pylon and headed off.

_KA-BOOM!_

Bomberman skipped over to the next platform, somersaulting in the air to avoid laser beams from a robot, and tossed another explosive at a pylon above his head.

_BOOM!_

As he ran past the Gravity Generator, Bomberman saw with satisfaction that the force field had fizzled a bit when the second pylon had been destroyed. On a roll, he punted a bomb into a sunken corner to take care of the third pylon, conveniently downing a robot that had gotten stuck there. Bomberman dodged shots from another soldier and retaliated with a volley of his own.

_SP-SP-SP-SPANG!_

"Aaaghh!" And the soldier went down.

Bomberman hopped over a horde of more mutant rats and headed for an unexplored section of the room. A quick analysis of the setup told him all he needed to know. He shoved a block into a position that allowed him to kick a bomb across two gaps to a fenced-off pylon.

Two explosions later, Bomberman knew it was time to finish the job. He marched to the defenseless Gravity Generator and saw that it, too, lacked a control panel or an off switch of any sort. With that in mind, Bomberman conjured two bombs in his hands. "Bottoms up, Mr. Machine!"

_KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM!_

The machine sparked, twitched, and then imploded under the pressure of its contained gravity.

_SCHWWWOOOOOM!_

The pieces swirled into nonexistence into a miniature, low-power black hole that dissipated as quickly as it had appeared.

"Yes!" Bomberman punched the air. "Sweet taste of freedom, here I come! Well, from this place, anyway..."

"Yay!" Pommy accompanied Bomberman in his victory dance. "We did it!"

Bomberman glared. "What do you mean, 'we'? _You_ were cowering in the corner while I did all the work!"

"Ah...uh..." Pommy stumbled over his words as he searched for a way out of his predicament. "Oh, hey! Look over there!" One of his round mitts pointed at a new passageway in the opposite wall. "There's a new doorway! Let's go through it and see where it takes us!"

"If it's out of this crummy place, I'm with you," Bomberman said, deciding to let Pommy off for the moment.


	6. Alcatraz: It's Go Time

The duo found themselves in what looked like the BHB Army ship hangar. Rows upon rows of tiny fighter planes stretched along the walls, and an open runway into the night sky of Alcatraz beckoned to the stranded space travelers. "Look!" Pommy said. "There's a flying machine over there, and not only that, it's unguarded! We can use it to get out of the black hole!"

"Hate to burst your bubble," Bomberman replied, "but there's no way we can get out of a black hole with that little thing. Even with top-notch engines, it's way too slow."

Pommy hung his head dejectedly, then brightened. "Oh! Lilith said there were other planets that had Gravity Generators, right? So we can use this thing to get to those planets and destroy those generators, and then we can escape from the black hole, because it won't be so strong anymore!"

"Ah, so you're not as brainless as you look," Bomberman remarked, checking out the nearest plane.

"_Myu!_ What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You have a brain. You figure it out." Bomberman opened the door to the spacecraft and peered inside. "Whoah, it smells like coconuts in here! Nice!"

"Wait a minute! Can Bomberman even fly this thing?"

"No idea. I've never seen this model before in my life." Bomberman strapped himself into the pilot's seat and surveyed the controls in front of him. They weren't too different from those in his plane, actually. "But I can try!"

"Ohhh..." Pommy pouted and paced nervously outside the ship, mumbling to himself. "Pommy hopes we'll be all right. Bomberman's way too easygoing, but Pommy's more down-to-earth and serious!"

Bomberman watched the disillusioned creature out of the corner of his eye, coughing every so often to hide a gigglefit. He pretended to be studying the buttons on the control panel.

The puffball continued conversing with himself. "Bomberman's lucky to have someone like Pommy on his side to keep him focused!" Pommy slowly walked over to the flying machine. "Well, it looks like we have no choice...we've got to use this." He pursed his lips. "Pommy doesn't like the color! Pommy will paint it later in better colors!" With that, the Kirby look-alike hopped in and closed the door.

Another siren wailed again.

"Geez, whoever's behind this whole shebang has a thing for red lights, alarms, and disabling remote controls," Bomberman remarked, shifting the plane into gear. "Let's hope that whoever it is doesn't take over a TV-making factory—then we'd actually have to walk all the way across the room to change the channel."

"No fooling around!" Pommy yelped. "Step on it!"

Bomberman did. He slammed his foot onto the gas pedal.

The plane rose into the air...

And rose...

And rose...

And dropped like a stone.

_THUNK!_

"Wah!" whined Pommy, covering his head. "Please don't crash the plane, Bomberman!"

"It's not like I'm trying to!" the panicked bomber shot back, trying again. This time, his efforts were successful. He maneuvered the vehicle onto the runway, unfolded the wings, and with a burst of energy, sped out into the black hole space.

B-O-M-B

In the central command room on a warship called the Noah, a man stood on the bridge of the ship, deep in thought. His wide-brimmed black hat hid most of his face in shadows, while a cascade of aqua hair spilled over his left shoulder. "So Baelfael has been defeated..." he muttered.

Another man, with a much larger build than the first, appeared on the lower bridge level. His golden eyes wavered in concern. "Is that true, Master Rukifellth?" he asked.

Next to him, a streak of lightning materialized into a sophisticated, pink-haired woman, who giggled. "I always said Baelfael's impatience would be his undoing! He was never one to listen to reason, and look what's happened to him because of it. He didn't look before he leapt, so to speak."

A gust of wind blew through the room, and with it arrived another young man, clad in shades of green. "The Astral Knights are the best fighters of the BHB Army," he began.

"Well, obviously, Ashtarth," the first man retorted, idly polishing the large gun attached to his right arm.

"Which is to further emphasize my point that one of us—even if he was the youngest—has been defeated. By whom, I don't know, but whoever it was must have been extraordinarily strong." Ashtarth flung his green braid of hair over his shoulder, seeming slightly miffed by the first man's sarcastic interruption. "It has to be someone like us...maybe someone sent by Mihaele, or possibly Mihaele herself."

The woman nodded in agreement.

Rukifellth, self-named leader of the BHB Army and its Astral Knights, glanced up. His striking blue eyes settled on each and every one of his knights present. When they fell upon the pink-haired woman, her skin colored to match her hair. "We don't know exactly who it was," he reported. "Not yet, at least. According to Baelfael's brief telepathic report before he died, the perpetrator is a mortal space traveler who got caught in the black hole. He also holds the Fire Stone—the very thing we need. Baelfael went to obtain it, and was defeated instead. By his own element, even."

The young woman whistled. "Amazing. Baelfael might have been the youngest, but he still puts up a helluva fight."

"But what's even more amazing is that the person who defeated Baelfael was allegedly mortal," Ashtarth noted, his tone more concerned than impressed. "How...how can that be?"

"Baelfael must have slipped up bad, like Zhael said," the golden-eyed man concluded. "That has to be the only way a mere mortal killed one of us."

Zhael cocked her head upon hearing her name. "I might remember that a particular someone was almost killed by a mortal even while on his guard, dear Behemos."

Behemos scowled, his right arm twitching. "I would ask you to kindly not mention that incident."

"The report," Rukifellth continued, cutting Behemos and Zhael off, "says that he has white hair, brown eyes, and wears a blue and white sweatshirt with white jeans. He is a pyrokinetic bomber, and therefore uses fire-based explosives as his battling M.O. Not only that, some sort of round creature accompanies him, though it doesn't seem to do much."

In the center of the bridge's ground level, an old but still muscular man appeared in a column of brimstone. The ends of his orange-streaked gray mustache moved up ever so slightly. "Excellent! I was becoming bored watching my Elemental," he said. "I could use a diversion. This should be amusing, teaching this intruder a lesson."

The giggles of a bubbly female echoed throughout Noah Central Command. She made her debut in a blinding flash, indicative of her elemental specialty—light. "Don't get _too_ overconfident, Molok!" she said, tossing her ghostly pale lavender hair back. "You never know when someone will pull that red carpet out from under your feet, you know!"

"Is that so?" Molok gave a wry smile. "Well, you're welcome to try anytime, Miss Zoniha."

The impending fight was cut short by a man appearing in a swirl of dark energy. "It would be wise to keep in mind that we're all on the same side," he reprimanded. His face was hidden by the helmet he wore. "We've got more important things to deal with—like this intruder."

Zoniha grinned at him. "That's our Bulzeeb…swift and to the point!"

Bulzeeb said nothing in response.

"I see you're all here. My knights, your attention please!"

The Astral Knights knelt in respect of their master Rukifellth.

"Your main priority should be to do whatever it takes to get rid of this white warrior and take that Fire Elemental!" barked the space pirate. "Remember, our plan requires that we have _all_ the Elementals in our possession. You have your orders, now carry them out—and _don't_ fail me!"

"Yes, master!" they chimed in unison.

Before departing to guard his Elemental, Bulzeeb stayed to ponder a few pieces of information. _A white-haired pyrotechnic bomber?_ He smiled knowingly. _Nothing can save you this time, my old friend Bomberman._ Then he vanished.

"Hmm," Rukifellth mused. "The arrival of this white warrior is certainly unexpected. But for him to have the very Elemental that we need...the fates must be smiling upon me.

"Still," he continued, sitting down in his chair, "Mihaele's plans concern me. It appears that she has manifested herself in that Lilith woman who's been running around. It must be for desperation's sake...she surely knows that Lilith's half-demon nature will drastically reduce her goddess powers." He studied the screen in front of him thoughtfully. "A mysterious bomber or the she-demon Lilith...either one would be acceptable for use on the altar of my resurrection. It doesn't matter, really—neither of them will interfere again. It would be hard to do anything with one's head rolling around on the floor, after all."


	7. Aquanet: Tales of Sashimi

All was well on the planet of Aquanet. Except for the squawks of oversized seagulls circling the skies for their next victim, the landscape (if it could be called that, considering the land was almost entirely covered in water) was otherwise serene and undisturbed, a veritable display of ethereal tranquility.

That is, until Bomberman and Pommy decided to drop in.

Their tiny plane touched down on the only large enough surface above water in the immediate area, the shaky landing slightly rattling the structure. As Pommy hopped out of the craft, he inhaled deeply and smiled. "Such a pretty planet! It must be an ocean world!"

"Why do you think there's nothing but water for who knows how many miles?" Bomberman grumbled, stumbling out of his seat and slamming the door shut. He was still peeved at the prospect of having nothing to eat. Well, that wasn't entirely true—he _had_ found that bag of chips and that package of Twinkies stashed in the glove compartment of the plane. But the chips had been stale and the Twinkies crushed. Bomberman knew that he should be counting his blessings, but right now he was too tired and hungry to count correctly. After all, half a bag of chips and cream filling only got a person so far, especially with a hyperactive puffball in tow.

Seeing no other way to go, Bomberman and Pommy took a nearby marble elevator down. They stepped out into a massive hallway of white marble, where their footsteps echoed loudly through the quiet air as they began to walk along the corridor. Fluted columns topped with leering dragonheads lined the walls. The high ceiling was frescoed with scenes from a mythology that Bomberman wasn't familiar with (and wasn't sure he wanted to be). Flowing designs of molded silver spilled across the walls and onto the floor, giving off a cool magical glow to light the way.

Bomberman whistled. "Check this place out," he said in wonder. "It's a total opposite from that other planet we were on."

"Myu..." Pommy hopped alongside Bomberman. "It feels weird here. Empty and such. We haven't seen anyone walking around, have we?"

Bomberman nodded. "And it doesn't feel like anyone's here either. I don't get the sense that people live in these parts."

"Maybe it's a ghost town!"

Bomberman gave Pommy an odd look. "I wouldn't exactly call this a town."

"Bomberman's just being nitpicky! Myu!"

"Blame it on my stomach."

They continued to follow the hallway, stopping at regular intervals to marvel at the aquatic-themed architecture and decor. A painted portrait of a topless redheaded mermaid caught Bomberman's attention for just a _little_ too long. This prompted Pommy to nudge him onwards...but not without taking a good look at the mermaid himself.

The sound of rushing water greeted Bomberman's ears as he and Pommy rounded a corner. They had entered a room with an open-air ceiling, which allowed the clear blue sky to shine down upon them. More mythological murals covered the walls. In the center lay a gargantuan pool of water, surrounded by four marble dragonheads spitting water into the pool.

"Myu, look at the pretty water!" Pommy exclaimed. "Let's go for a swim!" And before Bomberman could say otherwise, the marshmallow had sprinted off and performed a cannonball into the pool. _SPLASH!_

Bomberman raised an eyebrow as he saw Pommy dog-paddling around the perimeter. "You know, Pommy," he said, "you don't know what's in that water. It could be sodium hydroxide for all we know."

"Pommy's not scared!" Pommy declared. "Pommy's the greatest hero in the universe, so Pommy will fight off this nefarious sodium hydroxide!"

"That's what they all say," Bomberman said, yawning. _Nefarious? Where did Pommy learn a word like that? _He decided to let Pommy enjoy his swim in order to get a few minutes of shut-eye for himself. The last time he'd had anything resembling a good sleep was back on Alcatraz, and that had barely been a catnap. And then he'd had to deal with Baelfael soon after.

The unpleasant memory of the battle with the Astral Knight and his subsequent death rushed back into Bomberman's memories as he lay down next to one of the dragon statues and closed his eyes. It was true that Bomberman had fought many a wrongdoer in his young existence, starting at age 14, and had sent more than his fair share of them to the critical care unit. He was no stranger to death and destruction, either; he'd often seen his older comrades at Bomber Base kill if the situation called for it, and criminals kill whether or not the situation called for it (which it rarely did). But he himself had never taken a life until fighting Altair's band of mercenaries five years ago, when he'd unintentionally killed two of Altair's generals. He hadn't done so again until now. The fact of the matter was, Bomberman specifically avoided taking lives as a means of resolving a situation. He wasn't against a fair amount of roughhousing, although his main modus operandi tended to be peaceful negotiation. But killing, for him, was a definite no-no.

Bomberman rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. Where had he gone wrong in dealing with Baelfael? Was it when he'd told the knight that he wasn't going to refuse the fight with him? No, not that; the way things had been going, the fight had probably been inevitable since Bomberman had no intention of giving up the Fire Stone. Maybe there hadn't been any mistakes. Maybe, like in Artemis and Orion's deaths, there had only been flukes of the situation, whims of an indifferent force that Bomberman had no control over. After all, how could he have known the magnitude of the backlash when his superbomb collided with Baelfael's flame attack? It had been obvious there was going to be a reaction, but the resulting explosion had—literally and figuratively—blown him away. Baelfael had been too slow, and was consequently caught in the core of the blast. There was no real fault on Bomberman's part...not really. But he couldn't help but feel otherwise, and he wondered dismally if there were going to be any more deaths like Baelfael's.

Despite his troubled mind and the pains that came with using a marble floor as a bed, Bomberman managed to slip into a decent napping mode. For a few precious minutes, all was calm save for the soft sounds of Pommy's splashing. It was the very picture of the Elysian Fields, except...not in the fields. Of course, all good things must come to an end, and this truism was thus invoked by Pommy's panicked cries for help.

"Myu! Pommy's being chased! Help! Somebody please help Pommy!"

Bomberman merely rolled over and scratched his neck, hoping that maybe if he ignored Pommy long enough, Pommy would be chased out of the water and onto dry land so he wouldn't have to go dive in after him. It wasn't just that Bomberman was feeling lazy at the moment: he couldn't swim, either.

"Help! Something's got Pommy's foot!"

"Argh..." Bomberman sat up and rubbed his eyes. He blinked three times to get his vision back into gear. The image of Pommy flailing wildly in the water gradually came into focus. "Pommy!" he yelled. "What do you think you're doing, waking me up for a stupid prank like that?"

"_Nooo!_" the creampuff wailed. "Pommy's not joking! Something's biting Pommy's foot!"

Bomberman raised an eyebrow again. He dragged himself to the edge of the pool and looked over. As far as he could see, there wasn't anything harassing Pommy. "You know," he began, "you're lucky I'm too tired to do anything but sleep right now, because otherwise I would be wringing you like a sponge."

Pommy stopped thrashing and pouted. "Bomberman's no fun."

"Well, quite frankly, I don't feel like being 'fun' right now." Bomberman stretched a little before returning to his place of rest and curling up on the floor, facing away from the pool. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have about thirty more winks to catch up on—"

"Myu! Ow! That hurts! Let Pommy go!"

Bomberman inwardly rolled his eyes. Why in the world did the mochi mound think that he would fall for the same trick twice? And he hadn't even given Bomberman a minute to rest.

There was a gargling noise from the pool. "Oh, no! Bomberman, help! _Help!_"

No reply.

"_Please!_" Another gurgling sound. "There's a really scary monster in the pool!"

Bomberman was ready to ignore this second plea for help when he was promptly drenched head to toe in ice-cold water. "What's the big idea, marshmallow?" he demanded, whirling around and shivering a bit. "Can't you see that I'm trying to—_holy son-of-a-biscuit!_"

Rising twelve feet out of the pool was a giant, vomit-colored, eight-eyed monster squid.

Bomberman gaped dumbly at the aquatic monstrosity.

The squid let out an ear-blasting roar and brandished its tentacles, flinging water everywhere.

Bomberman held up an arm to shield himself from the liquid barrage. His sharp eyes spotted Pommy struggling in the grasp of one of the higher tentacles. "Hang in there, I'll get you out!" he called, conjuring two bombs. "You're calamari rings, buddy!" And Bomberman hurled the explosives at the overgrown sea creature.

_HISSSSSSS!_

The blasts dissipated harmlessly as steam off the squid's slick body.

"_What?_" Bomberman exclaimed. "No way!" He proceeded to charge a more potent explosive, but the monster swung two tentacles at him, demolishing two dragonhead statues and forcing the bomber to go on the defensive. No sooner had Bomberman recovered from the initial attack than another arm rushed down to try and grab him. "Hey!" he shouted angrily, backflipping out of the way. "Do I _look_ like Miko Mido to you?"

The squid growled and attempted to snare Bomberman again. When it was once again foiled, it switched to a different attack in its arsenal. It opened its beaky mouth and heaved forth a large stream of dark, murky ink, effectively blinding Bomberman.

_SKWRRRT!_

"Gah!" Bomberman grabbed at his eyes, completely thrown off guard. In his desperate attempt to regain his sight, he stumbled right into the pool.

_KER-SPLASH!_

Bomberman felt himself plunging deeper and deeper into the frigid depths, and he panicked, choking on water as he did so. He was vaguely aware of a feminine voice shouting his name as his mind slowly faded to black...

B-O-M-B

—and then faded back into the warmth and wetness of two somethings that were undeniably female.

Bomberman's eyes slowly slid open.

They met with a considerable amount of Lilith.

A pause for reflection.

...he screamed.

"AAAAAAGH!"

Lilith, startled, promptly let go of him.

Bomberman flailed and toppled into the pool again.

_SPLASH!_

Luckily, Lilith caught his arm before he sank too far. "Sorry there," she apologized, pulling him back to safety. "Did I scare you?"

Bomberman coughed and shook his head furiously, water droplets scattering everywhere. "No...I was just..." He gasped and jumped to his feet in a battle stance. "Pommy! Squid! Water! Where—?"

Lilith laughed. "Pommy's here," she said, patting the said creature on the head, who was clinging to her brown shorts and shivering. "As for Monsieur Blooper..."

Bomberman turned around. The bloody, limp corpse of the giant squid lay halfway out of the pool, studded with a number of golden throwing knives in addition to sporting a gaping hole in its head. Three of its severed tentacles bobbed in the water like noodles. "Did...did _you_ do that?" he asked, amazed.

Lilith simpered. "Was it overkill?"

And Bomberman knew he was in love.


	8. Aquanet: Shadows of the Truth

Bomberman, Lilith, and Pommy continued together into the labyrinths of Aquanet. Lilith whistled cheerfully as she cleaned off bits of squid from the throwing knives that she'd retrieved from its body. Bomberman was now clad in only his jeans and a black undershirt; he had taken off his ink-spotted sweatshirt and was trying to squeeze the water out of it the best that he could. "Drat," he muttered. "This was my favorite sweatshirt, too."

"Well, we can probably find a place around here for you to dry off and get a temporary change of clothes," Lilith said, holding one of the knives up and examining it in the light. Satisfied, she slipped it back inside a holder attached to her belt.

"Where?" Bomberman asked. "Are we going to have to ask the water spirits to borrow their seashells or something? There's no one here!"

Lilith shook her head. "No, this planet is definitely inhabited, though it's mostly concentrated in the city of Nereid. And the people of Nereid all live underwater."

"Like merpeople?" Pommy asked, clearly interested. "Pommy wants to see merpeople!"

Lilith laughed. "No, they look just like me and Bomberman. Magical barriers surround the areas they live in, so they can venture out as far as the barriers extend without worrying about getting wet or how to breathe."

"Wow!" Pommy clapped. "Pommy thinks that's cool! How does Lilith know that?"

Lilith blinked, seeming surprised. "Er...good question." She scratched the back of her neck. "I...I guess I'm just knowledgeable on these things?"

"You wouldn't happen to be knowledgeable about where to find Nereid, would you?" Bomberman said.

"Unfortunately, no." Lilith shrugged, smiled, and continued to clean off the rest of her knives. "But I'm up for exploring."

Bomberman blushed slightly at Lilith's smile. "Same here."

"By the way...how are you doing after last time?"

"You mean from after Baelfael?" Bomberman touched his cheek. He could still feel a slight scar there, but otherwise the pain had been gone for a while already. The same went for the other injuries on his body that he had tended to once he'd gotten the chance. "I'm fine. That gel you gave me is some pretty strong stuff."

Lilith smirked. "Homemade is always the best."

"You didn't buy it from a store?"

"I told you, a friend gave it to me. He was the one who made it."

"Man..." Bomberman shook his head. "He could make big bucks off selling the recipe!"

"Too bad he's loyal to family values. Apparently it's an old family recipe, so he doesn't give it out to anyone except to those who are supposed to carry on the family legacy."

Bomberman laughed and shrugged. "Them's the breaks, eh?"

"No kidding." Lilith looked up. "Speaking of breaks, looks like we're going to break the surface soon."

And indeed, at the top of a staircase in front of them shone the sun and sky. A wind whistled through, carrying with it the moist smell of seaweed and salt. They scampered up the steps and found themselves atop a small stone tower.

Bomberman put a hand against his forehead to block out most of the bright sun. Through the blinding light, he could make out a variety of structures breaking the surface of the water. The most notable one was a large tangle of narrow stone walkways that ultimately led to a medium-sized brick building topped with a dolphin statue in the distance. "It looks like we can enter a small building over there," he said, pointing with his other hand. "We've got a bit of a walk, though."

"I don't mind," Lilith said, tucking the last of the knives into the holder on her belt. "It's a pretty good day for a walk, don't you think?"

_In more ways than one,_ Bomberman thought, stealing a glance at Lilith.

The three of them made their way down the external staircase that curved around the tower and led to the walkway. Pommy skipped some ways ahead of them, humming a vaguely familiar tune. Bomberman hung back slightly so he could admire Lilith without making it painfully obvious. He couldn't believe his luck—he finally had some time to get to know her! The only problem was, women were Kuro's forte, not his: Bomberman wasn't sure where he was supposed to start "getting to know her." He quickly murdered any questionable thoughts that invaded his head and went with some safe, wholesome basics. "So, uh..." he began, already feeling himself start to sweat, "where do you come from? Are you close by here?"

"Kinda. I'm from the Thalian Empire. Ever heard of it?"

"Yeah." Having done the best he could with his sweatshirt, Bomberman shook it out one last time before tying it around his waist. "We get news on the intergalactic television channels about it sometimes."

"Well, I was born on Zelkova, one of its protected planets. But I haven't been there in ages."

"Where are you now?"

Lilith gave him a mysterious smile over her shoulder. "Well, right now, I'm here with you."

Bomberman had to force his next words out of his suddenly dry mouth. "I meant—"

"I know what you meant; I'm just being a brat." A pause as Lilith glanced up at a seagull overhead. "I guess I'm a vagabond right now. I wander and drift...I don't have one particular place I call home." She looked at him. "What about you? Where are you from?"

"Bomber Nebula, Bomber Star. It's only a few light-years away from here."

"Hmm. I might've passed by there a few times."

"Really?"

"Sure. I probably saw it out of my ship window or something."

"Oh." With that subject of conversation quickly dying, Bomberman fumbled around for something else to discuss. "H-how did you get stuck here, anyway? Was it because you were wandering and just happened to be caught in the black hole?"

"You could say that."

Bomberman noticed the flippant evasion subtly lacing Lilith's response. He felt slightly offended by it, then thought that perhaps Lilith wasn't a person inclined to say more than what was needed. That was all right; he could accept that. It would be a refreshing change from his friend Megumi back on Bomber Star, who sometimes wouldn't shut up for days on end. Still, Bomberman wondered what it was that Lilith wasn't telling him, if there really was anything. It wasn't his business by any stretch of the imagination, but could he really be blamed for speculating?

"Was it the same with you?"

Bomberman snapped out of his contemplation. "What?"

"Did you get stuck here because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Bomberman laughed. "Yeah. I was on my way back from vacation."

Lilith whistled sympathetically. "Oh, ouch. That's gotta burn."

"Myu!" Pommy's voice cut into their conversation. "Look! There's a whole city beneath the water!"

Bomberman and Lilith stopped to peer over the edge of the walkway. Though the ocean water was unusually clear, they could just barely make out the outlines of a sprawling city resting a good few miles down from where they now stood.

"I guess that's Nereid," Lilith said, gazing into the water. "Gotta say, it looks like one piece of work."

"No kidding," Bomberman agreed.

"Myu..." Pommy's ears drooped. "It's nice, but how are we going to get down there? We can't swim that far down!"

"From the looks of it, labyrinths are everywhere on Aquanet," Lilith said. "I'd imagine that there's a passage somewhere that'll lead down to Nereid."

"Really? Then let's hurry up and get there!" Pommy chirped. "Pommy wants to go see the merpeople!" And he scampered off.

"Hey, puffball!" Bomberman called. "You might want to watch your step!"

In response, Pommy jumped in the air, did a cartwheel, landed on both feet, then continued on his merry way—a polite way of communicating a not-so-polite gesture.

Bomberman sighed. This was going to be a long walk.

B-O-M-B

Bomberman and Lilith eventually reached the end of the walkway, where a wooden drawbridge connected it to the entrance of the building they had seen from the tower. Pommy was waiting rather impatiently by the bridge, tapping his foot.

"It took Bomberman long enough to get here!" Pommy snapped. "But now we're all here and we can go to the pretty city underwater!"

Bomberman rolled his eyes. "I wasn't the only one who was late, you know."

But no sooner had Pommy taken two steps onto the drawbridge than a miniature tidal wave suddenly rose up in front of him, washing him back and completely soaking both Bomberman and Lilith.

_SPLAASSSH!_

"Aaagh!" Lilith held up her arm to protect her face from the incoming wave.

"Myu!" Pommy tumbled into a sodden little pile at Lilith's feet.

"Well, damn," Bomberman muttered, wiping as much seawater from his face as he could. "And I was starting to dry off, too."

Two men sporting seashell necklaces and wielding tridents glared at them from either side of the drawbridge, seeming to float above the surface of the water. One had long blond hair, while the other lacked hair of any kind. As Bomberman sized them up, he suddenly realized that there was something fishy about the lower half of their bodies...

"Myu!" Pommy exclaimed. "They're merpeople!"

"Halt!" the blond commanded. "This is an entrance to the city of Nereid. Outsiders are forbidden here!"

Lilith held up her hands. "We mean no harm. We're only looking for a place to rest and dry off."

The bald merman shook his head. "It can't be allowed. Nereid has remained undefiled for centuries under our watch, and it shall remain so."

"We're not going to defile it," Lilith insisted, squeezing out water from her hair. "We just want a place to stay."

"Denied."

Lilith sighed. "Then can you at least point us to a place where we can stay without 'defiling' it everywhere we walk?"

"Forget it, Lilith," Bomberman said, grumpy at having gotten wet again. "Clearly we're not welcome here. Let's go see if the seagulls will rent their nests to us." He started to turn around—

"You there!" the blond called, pointing at Bomberman with his trident. "The one with the white hair! What's that you've got in your pocket?"

"Huh?" Confused, Bomberman pulled out the Fire Stone from one of his jean pockets.

The mermen raised their eyebrows at it, then began whispering across the drawbridge to each other in a strange language. Unbeknownst to Bomberman, Lilith was also staring at his hand in wonder and confusion.

"That can only be the Fire Stone of the legends," the bald merman said after a while. "It is a physical manifestation of divine power. Surely your possession of it must mean that you have been blessed by the gods." He bowed his head. "If we were to deny you entry, it would bring down the ire of those even more powerful than us. As protectors of Nereid, we cannot allow that to happen." He gestured with a hand. "You are hereby welcomed to the city of Nereid."

Bomberman blinked. "Uh...thanks?"

"Yay!" Pommy jumped up and down. "We'll get to see more merpeople!"

As the three adventurers crossed the bridge and disappeared into the building, the mermen looked at each other. "What say you?" the bald merman said. "Shall we report back to His Sovereignty?"

The blond nodded. Both of them promptly turned tail and dove back into the ocean waters, disappearing beneath the glassy surface and leaving only the softest of ripples.

B-O-M-B

Upon finally entering the building, Bomberman was even more annoyed to find that there was no elevator downwards like there had been at his arrival on this planet, only stairs snaking tightly down into a dimly-lit nothingness as far as he could see. But he supposed that as long as they could get to a decent place to stay at the end of it all, it would be fine.

"Bomberman," came Lilith's voice softly behind him as they descended the stairs, "where did you get that gemstone?"

"You mean the Fire Stone?" Bomberman said. "I've had it with me for a while. It was a gift from a higher-up at my workplace—it helps with my powers."

"Your powers?"

Bomberman nodded. "I'm a bomber—a pyrokinetic to be more specific. The Fire Stone increases the strength of my explosives, though I'm not entirely sure why or how." He looked at her. "Why do you ask?"

"So that's why Baelfael didn't have anything..." she murmured. "It was you all along."

Bomberman suddenly recalled Pommy's brief conjecture back on Alcatraz about whether the gems Lilith had been looking for were the same as his Fire Stone. He'd been too depressed at the time to make the connection. "I guess so," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "Sorry."

Lilith shook her head. "It's all right. At least now I know where it is." She frowned. "But that means that the BHB Army will be after you, you know."

"I know." Bomberman smiled thinly. "Baelfael told me so."

"If you want, I can hold that stone for you while you dismantle the Gravity Generators. I'm less notorious at the moment than you are, so it would be safer with me."

Bomberman should have been pleasantly surprised by Lilith's offer, but his years of training kicked into gear, and suspicion flooded his mind instead. He tried to shove aside his feelings for Lilith in favor of concentrating on the logistics of the situation. It was, at first glance, a kind gesture on Lilith's part. But considering that he'd only known her for a little while, that was all the more reason to be suspicious. And while she claimed that she was just another victim of the black hole, the fact that she appeared to be actively going after the Astral Knights and their gems (or so she had said on Alcatraz) struck him as being rooted in a motivation secondary to escaping the black hole. Besides, his time in Alcatraz's jail, along with previous experiences, had proved that he was pretty useless if he didn't have the Fire Stone on his person somewhere. Not that he was ever going to admit that to her—he didn't need to make more of an idiot of himself than he already did by just existing. But how could he let her down and still retain his dignity...?

"Well...why do Baelfael and everyone else want this thing, anyway?" Bomberman finally asked. Good, good, he said to himself, a diversionary question, and a legitimate one at that.

"What you have is one of seven legendary jewels called the Elemental Stones," Lilith explained. "In addition to the Fire Elemental that you have, there are also Elemental Stones embodying the elements of water, wind, lightning, earth, light, and shadow." She traced a carved relief of a sea monster on the wall with her hand as she passed by it. "From what I've heard, the BHB Army holds the other six and are looking to complete their collection. If they get their hands on your Fire Stone, I imagine we can kiss our little universe good-bye."

Bomberman shuddered even has he noted this little piece of information. For being just another unlucky traveler, Lilith sure knew quite a few things about what was going on. But maybe she was just uncommonly intelligent or well-read, Bomberman supposed. He wouldn't put that past her.

"Oddly enough," Lilith continued, "the only thing that can stop the BHB Army are the Stones themselves."

"Myu? How does that work?" Pommy scratched his head with one of his ears.

"Hell if I know. But I'm working to figure that out." She glanced again at Bomberman. "I suppose it would be all right for you to keep the Fire Stone," she said slowly. "After all, if you're going to be going around destroying the Generators in here, you'll probably be up against the rest of the Astral Knights sooner or later, and since you said that the Fire Stone strengthens your powers, I imagine that it'll help you a lot more than it'll help me."

Bomberman let out a long, mental sigh of relief. Problem solved. For the moment, at least.

Lilith smiled at him. "But if you need anything, I'll do the best I can to help you out."

Bomberman flushed. "Thanks," he said. "You're a nice person, you know." As soon as the words left his mouth, he mentally smacked himself. _Moron! What kind of comment was that? "You're a nice person," indeed. Could you get any more generic?_

Lilith arched an eyebrow. "Me, nice?" She laughed. "That's the first time anyone's ever told me that in a long time."

At this remark, Bomberman momentarily forgot about his lack of verbal eloquence. He thought that maybe she was just being sarcastic and making fun of him, but there was a look on her face and a certain tone to her voice that suggested something else entirely.

Before Bomberman could inquire further, Lilith completely changed the subject. "Well, look at that," she said. "We've finally got an elevator down here." She smirked at Bomberman. "And it's about damn time, don't you think?"


	9. Aquanet: Meet Moira

The city of Nereid was even more impressive up close. As Bomberman stepped out of the elevator, he couldn't help but gawk open-mouthed at the limestone buildings that spiraled high above him, majestic and noble and reminiscent of giant spiral seashells. He was unaware for the moment that many of the inhabitants of Nereid had paused in their daily affairs to give him and his companions similar treatment.

Lilith briefly glimpsed a mother gently swatting her daughter's shoulder for pointing at them as she passed by. "They must not have had visitors from the outside for centuries," she said. "Scratch that—I don't think they've even had visitors from anywhere else on this planet."

Pommy looked slightly disappointed. "Myu...there's no more merpeople."

Lilith laughed. "I told you, Pommy, there aren't any merpeople here. See? Everyone looks just like me and Bomberman."

"But then who were those two mermen that told us we couldn't enter here before?"

Lilith pursed her lips. "I...I don't know." She shrugged. "Aquanet is a planet with a long history. I wouldn't doubt it if it still had secrets hidden away."

Bomberman paused at a corner and scanned his surroundings. "I have absolutely no idea where to go from here..." he muttered. He turned to a man nearby. "Excuse me, sir, would you happen to know where we can find a place to stay here?"

The man blinked at him with watery eyes, clutching the handle of his pushcart. He looked over his shoulder, then back at Bomberman, then back over his shoulder.

Bomberman waited for an answer, tapping his foot.

The man gave Bomberman one last glance...then promptly turned around and pretended he hadn't heard or seen a single thing.

Bomberman frowned. "What the heck was that all about?" he complained. "All I asked was where we could stay for the night."

"They might not understand the language we speak," Lilith suggested. "Even though the planet's within the vicinity of a galactic republic, this particular place might not know the common language because it's so isolated."

Bomberman sighed. "Well, that's just great. How are we supposed to get a place to stay if we can't even ask where we're supposed to stay?" Something else suddenly struck him. "For that matter, how are we going to pay for lodging or food? I've only got my emergency paper bills on me, and that's not much." He grumbled. "I lost my cash card back when I got stuck here—I'll bet those BHB jackholes stole it from me. They've probably cleaned out my accounts by now."

Lilith patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about any monetary stuff. I can deal with that."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Bomberman was suddenly aware of a notable presence in the immediate area. He looked up and saw a middle-aged woman scrutinizing him from a short distance away, her bony hands clasped loosely at her stomach. She was slender and delicate, but not particularly attractive. Her gray-brown hair was swept up in a bun at the back of her head. She wore robes of green and blue in a style that suggested a high social class. Behind her was a curious crowd of civilians. Bomberman gently nudged Lilith in the side; she turned around just as the woman began to approach them.

"Your manners, your looks...they are not of this city," the woman began. "You can be naught but outsiders. Who are you that you can walk these streets unscathed by the tridents of our guardians?"

"I'm Bomberman," Bomberman said, bowing slightly. _So much for not speaking the common language—this lady can do it just fine. _He gestured beside him. "And these two are Pommy and Lilith. We're just looking for a place for the night."

The woman's stern expression didn't change. "You did not answer my question," she said. "I asked, who are you that you can walk here without having met your end at the hands of our guardians? What gives you the right to enter this sacred city?"

_I'd tell you if I knew!_ Bomberman thought desperately.

Lilith came to the rescue. "He holds a token of divine favor," she explained. "Your guardians noticed this, and let us enter out of fear of incurring the wrath of your gods."

"We have no gods but the ocean which protects us from the harshness of the above-world," the woman said. "But show us this token anyway."

Lilith nodded at Bomberman. Bomberman took the Fire Stone from his pocket and held it out.

The woman's eyes narrowed. She snatched the gem from Bomberman and studied it, rotating it between her skinny fingers. "Is this...the Elemental Stone of fire?" she asked.

Bomberman nodded.

Lines appeared on the woman's face as she coolly looked him over. "Very well," she said. "If this was enough to convince our guardians of your worthiness, we must trust in their judgment." She returned the stone to Bomberman and inclined her head slightly. "I am Nadine. I oversee this district of Nereid." She turned. "If you are looking for a place to stay, you are welcome to stay at my house. Follow me."

B-O-M-B

Nadine's house was a three-story spiral-shaped building situated well within Nereid. Seashells were embedded into its walls in a mosaic pattern amidst the aquatic flora hanging from windowboxes. There were stairs snaking around the outside of the house that eventually led to a second and third floor.

Nadine pushed aside a curtain of tiny shell garlands covering the entrance and shouted into the house. "Moira!" she called. "Prepare dinner—we are having guests!"

"Yes, ma'am" was the faint, slightly bitter reply.

Nadine turned to Bomberman, Pommy, and Lilith. "I have a bedroom upstairs that used to be my husband's. You may use that room for tonight. However, the bed only holds one person comfortably, so one of you will require a sleeping mat."

"That won't be necessary, ma'am," Lilith suddenly interrupted. "I won't be staying with them."

Bomberman did a double-take. "You won't?"

"Nah." Lilith waved him off. "I have something else I need to do."

"You will not stay for dinner, at least?" Nadine asked. "You appear to have come some ways to here."

Lilith shook her head. "The offer is appreciated, but I have my own ways of providing." To Bomberman, she said, "We'll run into each other again, I bet. But take care of yourselves 'til then, all right?"

Bomberman nodded, feeling immensely disappointed at this turn of events. "You too."

Lilith gave him one last smile before turning and running off through the sandy streets.

Bomberman sighed. So much for more quality time together with Lilith.

"Very well," Nadine said. "If it will be just you and your animal, then there is no problem with regards to sleeping arrangements. I will show you your room."

"Myu," Pommy muttered to himself. "Pommy is no animal! Pommy is a _mimic!_"

Nadine led them back outside to the outdoor staircase, leading them up to the third floor. They entered a generously sized room with a large, wide-open window that reached almost to the floor and was covered only by two thin blue curtains. "You are welcome to choose to stay here or to roam the house until you are called for dinner," she said. "If there is anything I can help you with, let me know." With that, she quietly closed the door and left the two alone.

Bomberman snorted and plopped onto the bed. "I wouldn't ask that woman for help if I were bleeding to death in the Kanatian Desert," he said under his breath.

"Pommy agrees," Pommy said. "Pommy thinks that that woman is creepy! And has bad fashion taste!"

"Still," Bomberman said, testing the softness level of the mattress, "it's good that we've got a place to rest now. We don't know how long it'll take us to find the Gravity Generator here, so we'll need all the energy we can get." He took out his still-disabled remote control from his jean pocket and studied it. "Might as well fix this thing while I've still got the chance."

"Pommy wants to ask something," Pommy said, clambering up the side of the bed to join Bomberman. "Why does that thing keep on breaking?"

Bomberman shrugged. "The first time, Baelfael was the one who messed with it, though I don't know how he did it. The second time, it wouldn't work inside the Gravity Generator room." He ran his thumb along different buttons on the remote; in addition to "programming" the remote for manual detonation, he'd also added an option for toggling back and forth between manual mode and automatic mode. "I'm guessing the configuration got messed up because there was some sort of electromagnetic pulse from a force field or something inside the Generator room—maybe even the one that was around the Generator itself."

"Pommy thinks Bomberman should get a better remote."

"I doubt there's much in the way of technological expertise here. Anyway, this one is just fine in terms of its mechanical parts. The physical components of a bomber remote don't need to be too complicated."

Pommy took the remote from Bomberman, then handed it back. "Pommy doesn't understand how Bomberman makes it work. The last time, Bomberman didn't do anything but sit with his eyes closed!"

"It's a mental configuration, not a physical one."

"But why?"

_Good question,_ Bomberman thought, struggling to remember his lessons from Bomber Base. "The reason a mentally-configured remote works is because it's linked to each bomber's particular chi signature." He paused for another moment of thought. "I guess since our bombs are more 'organic,' remotes that function solely on inner machinery won't work for us unless we link them to ourselves somehow."

Pommy looked up at Bomberman, wide-eyed. "Bomberman's bombs are orgasmic?"

"'_Organic'!_" Bomberman hastily corrected, flustered. "That means they come from living things!"

"Oh." Pommy lay down on the bed. "Bomberman sure is a strange creature. Pommy's never seen anyone like Bomberman before!"

"Same to you, creampuff." _Since when was I a "creature"...? _Bomberman found he was more amused than offended by the comment. He stood up, tossing the remote on the bed and then dumping his still-damp sweatshirt on a nearby chair. "Well, I'm going to dry off before I start fixing that thing," he said. "What are you planning to do, Pommy?"

He was answered by a long hum of a snore.

Bomberman blinked. _How in the world does he fall asleep so fast?_ he asked himself as he proceeded to find a bathroom.

B-O-M-B

Bomberman and Pommy were summoned for dinner just as the wavering ocean sky was beginning to burn with a pale orange hue. The two made their way down the staircase and followed Nadine to the comfortable dining room, where a sumptuous feast of artfully arranged seafood dishes awaited them on the table. Bomberman's mouth watered as he took a seat. He wasn't a particular fan of seafood, but he was hungry, and _damn_ did the food smell great.

"Feel free to help yourselves," Nadine said. "Oh, you don't have anything to drink. Excuse me." She clapped her hands. "Moira! What happened to our drinks? Bring the best flavored water that we have, and quickly!" She clucked her tongue. "That girl...honestly..." And Nadine swept out of the dining room.

Bomberman studied his place at the table. There was half of an unusually large scallop shell as his plate, a clay mug for a drink, and a clay bowl with a handle for the soup, but no eating utensils of any kind that he could see. _Huh_, Bomberman thought, looking over his dinner choices, which consisted of fried fish, fried shrimp wrapped in seaweed, clams, and some sort of soup. _Guess we'll have to rough this out the old-fashioned way._ He wiped his hands on the provided napkin before carefully picking up a fried fish by its tail and plopping it on his plate. Pommy, meanwhile, was happily stuffing his face with shrimp straight from the pot, not even bothering to use his plate.

As Bomberman was gingerly scooping up some hot soup with his bowl, he saw Nadine come back with a young girl of about fifteen standard years following her, her head bowed. The girl wore a plain tunic of slate gray over frayed leggings. In stark contrast to the other people of Nereid that Bomberman had seen, her hair was ice blue, and reached unevenly to her shoulders. She carried a tray of clay bottles with differently colored labels.

"You will bring these bottles to our guests sitting over there," Nadine instructed her.

The girl—presumably Moira—nodded and shuffled over to Bomberman, never once lifting her head. "Drinks, sir?" she asked in a quiet voice that suggested she was trying her best to keep from yelling out obscenities.

Bomberman selected a bottle at random. He had no idea what any of these flavors were. "Uh...thanks," he said uncertainly.

Moira's head jerked up in surprise. In quick succession, her amber eyes went wide, she gasped, a blush colored her cheeks, her hands flew to her mouth, and she dropped the tray of drinks.

_CRASH!_

Startled, Bomberman nearly fell out of his seat. But he recovered enough to stand up and attempt to help Moira out by picking up the clay shards scattered on the ground.

"No, no, leave it," Nadine said. "Not you, Moira! You are to clean that up. I was talking to...Bomberman, was it?" A corner of her lip curled in distaste. "I apologize for my servant's incompetence. I assure you, she will be gravely punished later for this offense to you."

Bomberman suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Y-you don't have to do that," he stammered, hating to think he would be the cause of someone else's pain later. "It's all right, really."

Nadine gave him a strange look. "Very well," she said after a moment. "The rules of hospitality here dictate that we honor one special request from each visitor. In accordance with what you have asked, as strange as it is, Moira will not be punished for her clumsiness to you. She will, however, still be punished for other transgressions that are unrelated to your coming."

Feeling only slightly better, Bomberman proceeded to tear at his fried fish with his fingers. He was distinctly aware of Moira's movements next to his chair as she carefully picked up the fragments of the bottles from the floor and set them in little pile.

"I have been summoned to an Overseers meeting tonight, so I will be away for some time," Nadine said. "If you need any more help, you may ask Moira, although I would not expect too much from her."

Moira scowled ever so quietly.

Nadine, either not noticing or pretending not to notice Moira's response, left in a swish of her robes.

Two minutes or so passed. Pommy had finished what he could of the shrimp and had moved on to the clams, gleefully prying each one open and diving face-first into the meat. Bomberman was chewing his fish in silence. Moira was still cleaning up the remnants of her little mishap. She had finished picked up the clay shards and was now mopping up the water with a ratty towel that seemed to absorb absolutely no liquid at all. Bomberman watched her out of the corner of his eye as she worked, then finally sighed and picked up a napkin from nearby, holding it out to her.

Moira shook her head. "I can't," she said. "Those are Nadine's guest napkins. She'll smack me if I use those."

"She's not here right now," Bomberman said. "She's not going to know, is she? After all, I'm guessing she won't be the one to wash these things."

A small smile flitted over Moira's face. "Yeah...you're right." She took the napkin and set her old towel aside. "She has more of these, anyway. Besides, for all she'll know, you just happened to have another spill." She blushed shyly. "Th-thanks...sir."

Bomberman simpered. "Just call me Bomberman, Moira."

The blush on Moira's face deepened even more.


	10. Aquanet: Night in Nereid

Bomberman had wanted to talk to Moira more after finishing dinner, both to assure her that there was no harm done by her accident and to have someone else to talk to other than Pommy, but Moira had insisted that there would be severe consequences if she were seen making small talk with him. Unwilling to get her into any more trouble, Bomberman headed back upstairs to the bedroom, seeing nothing else to do. After shoving an already-snoozing egg-shelled Pommy to the farthest possible corner of the bed, Bomberman climbed in and fell asleep.

It was dark as ink outside when Bomberman was awakened by a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Bomberman," came a whispery voice. "Bomberman, wake up."

Bomberman slowly came to. He rubbed his eyes and saw a petite, feminine figure standing before him. "W-who...?" he started.

"It's me, Moira."

Bomberman sat up and yawned. "What's going on?" he asked groggily. "How did you even get in here? I thought I locked the door."

"I climbed in through the window from the staircase," Moira said. "Sorry for bothering you at this time of night, but you have to get out of here as fast as you can."

"What? Why?"

"I overheard Nadine talking downstairs. Soldiers have just been sent to arrest you—they're here right now."

Bomberman blinked at her. "Arrest me? For what?"

Moira shrugged. "I just heard it was the orders of the Sovereign Ice Lord."

"The who?"

"The Sovereign Ice Lord. He governs Nereid right now. He's pretty much a dictator."

Bomberman let out a sigh as he stretched. This had to be the second time already that trouble pounced on him when he was sleeping. He wondered what he'd done recently to piss off Lady Luck. "So much for a good night's rest," he said, grabbing his mostly-dry sweatshirt and hastily putting it on. "At least we got food." With that done, he reached over and poked the pink-spotted egg at the foot of the bed. "Yo, marshmallow, wake up. We've got problems."

"Pommy doesn't want to be on Xbox 360..." Pommy mumbled from inside the egg.

Bomberman continued poking Pommy's egg. "I don't care what you want," he said, annoyed. "We gotta go _now._"

"Myu, Lilith, we shouldn't...!"

Bomberman smacked a palm to his forehead. "Of all times to..." Sighing, he turned to Moira. "You should go and hide wherever you can. I don't want you getting in trouble again because of me."

Moira shook her head furiously. "I'm going with you."

"...what?"

"I won't annoy you too much, I promise!" Moira insisted. "Plus, you don't know the city. I can show you an alternate route to the surface. Besides"—and her face darkened at this—"I hate this place. It can be destroyed for all I care!"

Bomberman stared at her. "Destroyed?"

"Yeah." Moira was oddly casual. "The soldiers were saying that if Nadine didn't turn you over to them, the Sovereign Ice Lord was going to completely wipe out this part of Nereid. Needless to say, Nadine's not happy. But she's trying to reason with them right now 'cause they're offending her sense of hospitality or something."

Bomberman frowned. "Well, that's not fair to the innocent people that live here," he said, worried. "Maybe I should just go and see what this what's-his-name wants."

It was Moira's turn to stare. "You're about to get arrested for no apparent reason and you want to go along with it just to save the losers here?"

"It's not their fault that I'm here, is it? Anyway, I've been in similar situations before, so it should be all right." _If I have enough continues to spare._

Moira's mouth dropped open. "You're completely out of your mind."

Bomberman laughed and shrugged. "Yeah, I've definitely been told that one before."

There were suddenly two sharp knocks on the door, like gunfire. "Bomberman?" came Nadine's voice. "I heard something from inside here. Is everything well with you?"

"Uh..." Bomberman started. "Y-yeah, everything's all right...I guess?"

There was a faint cracking noise as Pommy climbed out of his eggshell and tumbled onto the floor. "Myu?" he mumbled with half-lidded eyes as he staggered around. "What's going on...?"

"Oh, you're awake? I will be coming inside shortly." With a soft click of an opened lock, the door swung open. Light flooded the room as Nadine stepped inside with an oil lantern. "Bomberman," she began, "I must apologize for my sudden intrusion, but—" She suddenly cut herself off when she noticed Moira standing with Bomberman. "Moira! What is the meaning of this?"

Moira glared at Nadine. "I'm not letting you arrest an innocent person!"

"Foolish girl," Nadine hissed. "How do you know he's innocent?"

Moira stumbled over her words a little—apparently she hadn't thought that part through. "Well...j-just look at him!" she insisted. "Does that look like someone who needs to be arrested? I mean, he puts the 'bait' in 'jailbait'!"

Bomberman simpered a little at Moira's last remark about his appearance. _I don't look __**that**__ young...do I?_

"Evil comes in the most benevolent and unassuming of forms," Nadine answered, her voice tightly quiet. "But even if he is innocent, his presence here risks the existence of Nereid. The Sovereign Ice Lord has ordered Bomberman brought to him at once with the threat that Nereid _will_ suffer severe consequences otherwise. While I would like to refuse the orders of an arrogant outsider who's never even shown himself to us, I cannot take a course of action that could potentially lead to the destruction of this city."

"Hah!" Moira threw her head back and laughed. "To hell with you and your stupid city!" She turned to Bomberman. "Come on, let's get out of here!"

"Guards!" Nadine barked.

Four guards quickly burst into the room from behind Nadine and surrounded Bomberman, Moira, and Pommy with their tridents pointed.

Bomberman gulped. "H-hey, wait a minute!" he stammered. "Can't you at least tell me what I'm getting arrested for?"

"You are a fugitive from Alcatraz Prison," one of the guards intoned. "Furthermore, you are charged with theft of the Fire Stone from the BHB Army."

"The hell—?" Bomberman growled. "The Fire Stone was mine to begin with! _They're_ the ones trying to steal it!"

"Silence!" Another soldier jabbed his trident forward, nearly nicking Bomberman in the throat. "Go quietly and you'll be able to scream later when our lord deals with you!"

Bomberman sighed. _Looks like talking is out of the question._ He grabbed the trident in front of him behind its prongs and yanked it down, bringing the guard with it, then brought his foot up into the soldier's stomach and kicked him back.

_WHAM! _The soldier slammed into the wall.

Bomberman whirled around with the trident in hand and sideswiped the second soldier with it, drawing blood and sending him stumbling to the floor. The third charged him, but Bomberman stepped aside, grabbed the guard's wrist, and twisted it so that he slammed straight into the fourth soldier. As the second soldier got up to attack him again, Bomberman flipped the trident around and jabbed the blunt end of it into the soldier's chest, knocking the wind out of him. With that done, Bomberman tossed the trident to the ground, hooked an arm around Moira's waist, and—with Pommy clinging to his jeans—hopped up onto the open windowsill.

"H-hey!" Moira squeaked, clutching at Bomberman fearfully. "What are you doing?"

"Getting out of here, like you asked," Bomberman answered.

And he jumped.

_SWOOOOSSHH!_

Pommy and Moira both screamed.

Bomberman grit his teeth.

They plunged all three stories to the ground and landed in a tangled heap upon impact.

_THUD! _

They tumbled along for a good few feet, kicking up puffs of white sand, before skidding to a stop.

"Ugh..." Bomberman groaned, shaking his head. He slowly got to his feet and brushed sand grains off his clothes. "Maybe that wasn't such a good idea..."

"Myu!" Pommy yelped. "They're onto us!"

Bomberman didn't bother to look. He could already hear them stomping down the outdoor staircase. He extended a hand to Moira and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

Moira nodded.

"Where to, then?"

"This way!" Moira said, pointing.

They sprinted through the street, their way lit only by a few dim oil lanterns hanging outside of homes and shops. "Keep going," Moira said. "We're on a side street of this district—the exit is in an abandoned temple on the northern side that we have to reach from the main street."

­_Z-Z-Z-ZINNG!_

Cold, sharp projectiles suddenly shot past Bomberman, embedding themselves into the ground. He glanced over his shoulder long enough to spot the four guards from Nadine's house in hot pursuit of him, their tridents pointed and glowing. They were still a fair distance away, but steadily gaining. "Let me tell you, it ain't better down where it's wetter," he muttered. He reached down to his remote to switch the detonation mode from manual to automatic, then tossed two bombs behind him.

_KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM!_

In addition to providing a brief smoke screen for Bomberman and his companions, it also lit up the street temporarily, illuminating once-blank silhouettes. "Two more blocks!" Moira panted. "We'll make a left at that small fountain up ahead!"

But no sooner had they reached the end of the first block than a new group of soldiers filed in from another street nearby. They lined up one after the other, creating a human-and-trident blockade.

"Oh, no!" Pommy cried. "There's more of them!"

Bomberman cursed. "They must've called reinforcements!"

"I'll handle this," Moira said. She clapped her hands together, producing a flash of blue light, then pulled her hands apart to reveal a stream of magical water suspended between her palms. "Aqua Spread!" she yelled, flipping her palms outward.

_SPLSSSH!_

A wave of water burst from her hands, enough to bowl over the soldiers and send them flying into the sides of buildings or potted outdoor plants.

Bomberman whistled. "Nicely done."

Moira beamed.

The second block came up. Bomberman conjured two low-power smoke bombs for a second smoke screen, left them behind him, and the three turned the corner from the sandy street to a brick-paved path.

_BOOM! BOOM!_

"Hang on." Moira stopped for a moment and lifted a hand. "Waterspout!"

A large stream of water suddenly poured from the sky into the center of the intersection. _SPLAAASSH!_

Bomberman looked at her.

"Erases our sand tracks," she explained.

Bomberman smirked. "You're good."

Moira held her head high. "What can I say? I've had experience."

They continued deeper into the street, passing an open tavern and a gathering of homeless people around a pile of garbage. After reaching a fountain at a corner, they made another turn, where Moira led them through a graveyard and then past one more block before stopping. "There it is," she said. "The abandoned temple of Amphitra."

Across the street from their current position were the lopsided ruins of what had been a magnificent tribute to divinity. The domed roof of what Bomberman assumed was the anteroom had long since caved in, leaving a rim of uneven marble teeth around the mouth of the cylindrical structure. Various varieties of seaweed and other flora surrounded its base in a facsimile of a moat. Behind the anteroom seemed to be a courtyard followed by a much taller building—Bomberman couldn't see how far up it went, but he presumed that it was the exit that Moira had been talking about.

Moira led Bomberman and Pommy up the cracked steps and past the crumbling doors of the ruined temple. "As far as I can tell, this place hasn't been used for its original purpose in eons, but I hear that people still like to take the exit now and again for a breath of fresh air—particularly if they're couples."

Bomberman's mind flitted to Lilith for a brief moment before returning to something else he'd begun to wonder about. "Hey, Moira..." he said. "How come you don't care whether Nereid gets destroyed or not? Don't you have family or friends?"

"I'm not from here," Moira replied distantly. "I just came here a few years ago to look for my brother 'cause he left home all of a sudden and didn't say nothing about it."

"But how'd you get into Nereid? I thought this place was closed to outsiders."

Moira looked sheepish. "Once I arrived on the surface, I got stupid and was knocked unconscious into the ocean by monsters. Eventually I ended up on top of the magical barrier around Nereid, and I guess my presence on that barrier did something weird to it or whatever, and the people got scared so they just decided to let me in. And then I got stuck with that old hag Nadine." She made a face.

"So Moira was like a bug smashed on a window!" Pommy concluded.

"Er..." Moira shrugged. "I guess you could say that."

"Did you ever find your brother?" Bomberman asked.

Moira shook her head as she approached a large statue of a woman-seahorse hybrid at the front of the room. Or that's what it looked like in the darkness anyway—only a few meager beams from streetlights right outside the temple were available for illumination. "I didn't have much of a chance. Nadine kept me on a tight leash most of the time, making me do the dirtiest chores and smacking me for every little thing I did wrong, even if I just blinked at her a certain way." She scowled. "Man, I hated her, and all those other people in Nereid too. They treat anyone that doesn't wear nice clothes like crap, and the servants get way too much flack for nothing at all. They work you like a dog and won't even give you so much as a thank you."

"Well, couldn't you think of sparing Nereid even just for the sake of your brother?"

"He's not in Nereid." Moira knelt down next to the base of the statue and began to feel around it. "If he was, people would have been talking, I can tell you that." She grinned up at Bomberman. "I'm sure you've seen that people who look like me don't really exist here."

"That's true..."

Moira pursed her lips as she continued to search the statue's base. "Aha!" she exclaimed, reaching around the back. "I bet this is it!"

There was a soft creaking sound, and then the scraping of stone against stone as a panel on the wall behind the statue slid away to reveal a narrow, barely-lit stairway leading down.

"Myu!" Pommy clung to Bomberman's leg. "Pommy doesn't like that! That looks like a scary place to go!"

Bomberman rolled his eyes. "We don't have a choice if we want to get out of here."

Moira put a hand on the doorframe and peered into the passageway. "This looks like a really deep staircase," she said, frowning. "Is this really supposed to lead to the surface?"

Bomberman looked at her. "You don't know where it goes?"

"I only know what people say!" Moira sputtered. "I was living with a slavemistress for my time here, remember? I didn't exactly have free time to explore!"

Bomberman simpered. "Okay, okay, sorry."

Moira suddenly looked contrite. "No, I should be the one that's sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, especially since you were nice enough to let me bug you." She fidgeted a little. "And...I never got to thank you for saving my life. So thank you."

Bomberman waved her off. "It's no big deal." He brushed past her. "Let's go and get out of here already before the soldiers find us again. And Pommy, walk on your own. I don't appreciate having a dead weight on my foot."

"But Pommy might slip and fall on these stairs!"

"If you don't let go, _I'm_ going to slip and fall right on top of you. So get off already."

Pommy grumbled and reluctantly released his grip on Bomberman.

It was a long descent, but they reached the bottom of the staircase without much incident (save for Pommy complaining about the darkness, the cold, and the smell). They walked a short distance to a dimly-lit room with an elevator, which they gratefully took to the surface.

"Do what's-his-name's guards have jurisdiction up here?" Bomberman asked Moira as they stepped out.

Moira shrugged. "The Sovereign Ice Lord, from what I hear, has near total control of Nereid right now, but I don't know about the rest of this planet."

Bomberman cracked his knuckles. "Well, let's keep watching our backs."

"How can we watch if we can't see anything?" Pommy protested.

Bomberman had to admit that Pommy had a point. They'd all managed to make it up and out of Nereid, but it was pitch black still, with no moonlight to guide the way, never mind any kind of light. Bomberman knew that, with a little more effort, he could create a tiny flash bomb to briefly illuminate the path, but since they were all fresh off the chase, he didn't want to chance being discovered.

"Hey...you're not from around here either, right?" Moira suddenly asked. "Not from this planet, or any of the other planets in this solar system that got swallowed up by this freaky-deaky black hole. What's your deal?"

"Long story short, I'm a traveler passing through who wants out of here." Bomberman paused in thought. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have heard anything about a generator being built around this area or anywhere on this planet, would you?"

Moira gave him a strange look. "A generator? Not that I know of. Why?"

"Just asking." Bomberman squinted, then rubbed his eyes a little. He still couldn't make out even the barest hint of a path to suggest where to go, and with water rushing everywhere he wasn't going to risk another death encounter of the aquatic kind. "There's no way we can go anywhere in this darkness. We'll have to wait until morning to move."

B-O-M-B

"Apologies, Your Sovereignty," a soldier said, kneeling and pressing a fist to his chest. "We were unable to carry out your orders. He is trickier than we originally thought."

Golden eyes stared down on the soldier and his comrades. "Do you know where he might be at this moment?"

"Negative. His smoke screens have covered his escape well. In addition, strange water powers from the girl he was with destroyed sand tracks that could have indicated their direction."

"...water powers from a girl?"

The soldier nodded.

"My lord, if I may be allowed to speak." Another soldier respectfully stepped forward. "I suspect that they may try to make their way to the surface, if they aren't doing so already. Nereid is no longer safe for them—our soldiers are everywhere, and the citizens will refuse to shelter them out of fear of their city being decimated."

"How many ways are there out of Nereid?"

"Five, my lord. One in the north, one in the south, one in the west, one in the east..." A dramatic pause. "And one in death."

Scattered snickers echoed around the large, frozen room.

A chuckle from their lord. "Nicely said, my good man."

"Thank you, my lord." The soldier continued. "The south is the main entrance. The east is used only by the merchants to conduct business with outsider merchants, and there are strict regulations regarding who can come through. The west entrance has long since been destroyed. The north is still functional, but it leads to a dead end."

"Very well." A flick of an authoritative hand. "Station the majority of your men at the south entrance, but keep a lookout on that eastern one, just in case. I also want a few men waiting at the north entrance, in case they decided to take that path but later found out it was a dead end, forcing them to return to Nereid."

"Yes, sir!"

As the soldiers bowed stiffly and marched out of the room, the Sovereign Ice Lord hummed thoughtfully as he crossed his arms. "That girl..." he muttered, staring at a random spot on the pale blue floor.

"Any sign of our upstart little mortal, Behemos?"

Behemos looked up. A life-sized hologram of Rukifellth stood before him, awaiting a report. "There has," he said. "But he slipped through the cracks. My men are searching for him again right now. They're cutting off all possible escape routes."

"That is not good enough, do you _understand_ me? I want him right here, right now, along with that Fire Stone of his!"

Behemos promptly knelt on the ground. "Yes, sir...Master," he corrected himself.

Rukifellth tilted his head slightly to the side. "You appear a bit distracted, Behemos."

Behemos shook his head. "It's nothing. Just a minor detail one of my soldiers mentioned."

"Indeed."

Behemos nodded, still kneeling.

Rukifellth stepped forward, his gaze firmly fixed on the Astral Knight.

Behemos kept his obedient posture.

Then...

For just one barely perceptible blink...

Rukifellth's eyes flashed red.

Behemos twitched and lurched forward a bit, catching himself on his hands.

"You will be distracted no more," Rukifellth said, "for I have removed said distraction from your thoughts. You now have a clear mind and therefore no excuse for failing to carry out my orders."

Behemos quickly righted himself again. "Your generosity is appreciated, Master," he said. "I will avenge Baelfael and acquire the Fire Stone for you, then."

"I don't care what you do, just as long as I can have that Fire Stone!" Rukifellth barked. With a swish of his cape, his hologram faded away.


	11. Aquanet: Lord of the Frozen Wastes

Moira and Pommy slept soundly through the rest of the night, but Bomberman forced himself to keep an eye half-open for anything that might dare to sneak up on them. Morning arrived without a fuss, but it confirmed something that Bomberman had suspected since they first stepped out of the elevator: they were on a platform that was essentially a lone little island in the middle of the ocean. Their single chance of escape—a wooden bridge connecting a brick walkway to the platform—had collapsed, leaving the trio very much stranded.

"Huh." Bomberman snorted. "No wonder the people of Nereid didn't bother with boarding up this entrance. It doesn't even go anywhere."

Moira smirked and made her way past Bomberman. "You give up too easy." She knelt at the edge of the platform and pressed a glowing hand to the water. "Wave Frost!"

Like lightning, a jagged path of solid ice sliced across the surface of the water, providing a brand new bridge for them to tread upon.

Bomberman's mouth dropped open. "Holy..." he started. "That _is_ safe, right?"

Moira pouted. "What, don't you trust me?" she mock-whined. "Come on, I dealt pretty well with those losers back there, didn't I?"

"Pommy agrees!" Pommy said, hopping and down beside Moira. "Pommy thinks Moira is cool!"

Bomberman tested the ice with the toe of his sneaker. Though the makeshift path was narrow, the ice seemed solid enough, and the surface was dull, indicating that it wouldn't be dangerously slippery. "Looks good to me." He laughed. "You've been a great help so far, Moira. Leading us out of Nereid, covering our tracks, and now this...I can't thank you enough. I might just make you stay with me 'til we get out of this black hole."

Moira blushed slightly and turned away.

Bomberman blinked. "Er...well...let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

They did just that, inching along the ice and then following the long walkway to a large, rectangular box of a building surrounded by a collection of marble sea creatures on either side of it. Three small fountains, bubbling serenely, greeted them as they entered. The beginnings of lacy frost were splashed across the pale blue walls.

Pommy shivered. "Myu, is it just Pommy, or is it cold in here?"

"Not just you." Bomberman rubbed his arms. "It was fine outside! Why's it so cold now? This place isn't new enough for central air-conditioning!"

"It's magical," Moira said, holding out a hand. "Or supernatural. But I can't imagine why."

"Someone must've wanted to make sure Christmas came this year," Bomberman muttered.

Unpleasant as it was, they had nowhere else to go except deeper into the cold. The three of them trudged past another set of fountains and then started down a steep set of white stairs. The temperature seemed to drop with every step below ground level; it wasn't long before Bomberman's breath began coming out in faint, fluffy puffs of white. He noticed Moira shaking rather violently in her thin tunic and leggings, so he took off his sweatshirt and tried to offer it to her.

"You really are crazy," Moira snickered through chattering teeth. "You're wearing just that shirt underneath and you're still giving me your sweatshirt?"

Bomberman shrugged. "Why not? I've been through worse. Anyway, I'm sure we'll reach a warmer place soon."

"If it doesn't get any warmer soon, Pommy will be a Pommysicle," Pommy complained.

Moira shook her head. "It's fine. I'm usually used to this kind of temperature—it's just that living in Nereid for so long has lowered my tolerance a bit." She grinned. "That stupid brother of mine liked to turn up the air conditioner at home all the time. When you're living with someone as stubborn as he is, you learn to get used to their quirks."

Bomberman finally just put his sweatshirt back on. "Well, if you're sure, you can at least carry Pommy. He's light and might be able to provide some warmth for you if he isn't already a walking blob of mochi ice cream."

Moira leaned over to take said creature into her arms. She petted Pommy reassuringly on the head, and Pommy let out a contented "myuuuu."

The floor at the bottom of the stairwell featured a swirly mosaic of an ocean landscape, outlined in silver. Across that same floor was a set of heavy-looking double doors of stone. "Looks like we might be getting somewhere," Bomberman said. He walked to the doors and, with a grunt, shoved them open with both hands.

_CR-REAK!_

Bomberman held up an arm just as a blast of frigid air hit his face. _So much for reaching a warmer place,_ he thought, shivering.

The room they'd just entered seemed more like a cavernous icebox than a room—a cavernous and completely empty icebox. Compared to this, the ground-level floor above them was a sauna. Menacing icicles hung like monster teeth from the high, frozen ceiling, even around the open spots where sunlight shone down on them. Bomberman thought the floor was frozen over as well, but on closer inspection, he saw that it was just made up of shiny blue tiles. Not that it really made a difference in the whole scheme of things what it was. "Well, there you have it, folks," he said. "This was once a giant refrigerator for the ancient civilizations of this planet."

"Myu!" Pommy jumped out of Moira's arms and stomped over to Bomberman. "Bomberman said it'd be warmer soon! Does this look like warmer to Bomberman? Huh? Does it? _Does it?_"

Bomberman glared. "Do I look like a fortune teller?" he snapped. "Let's just get out of here as fast as we can."

_WHOOOSSHH!_

Another blast of cold wind, this time laced with snowflakes, swirled around the trio, halting them in their tracks for the moment.

"Aaah!" Moira hugged herself tightly against the freezing gales.

"Yeek!" Pommy covered himself the best he could with his hands and ears. "Wh-what just happened?"

Bomberman wiped the melting snowflakes from his face with a trembling hand and looked.

An intimidating figure of a man, bulky and armored, stood before the three of them. His ocean-blue hair stuck out like icicles on top and flowed down the back of his neck like a waterfall. "So you're the ones who are interfering with Master Rukifellth's plans," he said. His roughly square face smiled nastily as he approached them, his armor clinking with his movement. "I am the Sovereign Ice Lord of Aquanet, the Lord of the Frozen Wastes. For your actions, you will answer to me."

Bomberman noticed uneasily that the Sovereign Ice Lord sported a rather large and unfriendly-looking gun on his right arm. He tried not to think of what was meant by "answering" to this man.

"N-no..." came Moira's unbelieving voice. "_Behemos?_"

Bomberman turned around. Moira's eyes were wide and shining; her hands covered up her open-mouthed surprise.

The Sovereign Ice Lord—apparently also known as "Behemos"—regarded Moira curiously. "What are you staring at, girl?" he asked.

Moira blinked...then stamped her foot in annoyance. "What do you mean, 'what am I staring at'?" she snapped. "Idiot! It's me, Moira!" She put her hands on her hips. "You know..._your sister?_"

Behemos stared. So did Bomberman.

"What the hell are you doing here, Bem?" Moira barreled on, her fists clenched. "What's all this crap about being the 'Sovereign Ice Lord' and taking over Nereid and whatnot? Hell, how'd you even pull all that off anyway? Never mind, tell me later when I beat the living ice cubes out of you for being a total moron. Auntie Kel's been worried to death and back about you! She can barely pay the monthly rent without your paycheck to help her, and you know that! And the guys have been falling apart back home—I can't be your stand-in forever! What in this goddessforsaken solar system possessed you to—"

"I have never seen you before in my life," Behemos calmly uttered.

Moira paused in her tirade. She stared at Behemos, processing his words. Her fists dropped to her side...then promptly rose back up again. "You _jerk!_" she yelled, stomping up to him. "I work my ass off for two years under an ungrateful old crone to try and figure out where the hell you've been all this time, and _you want to play mind games with me?_"

"Moira!" Bomberman shouted. "Look out—!"

Too late. Behemos' right arm swung around and slammed into the side of Moira's head.

_WHAM!_

Moira was tossed aside like a ragdoll, landing hard and skidding painfully across the tiled floor.

"Oh, no!" Pommy cried.

"You're a minor annoyance, nothing more," Behemos said, brushing off his gun. "You're not the one I want, so I suggest you stay out of the way if you want to live."

Bomberman and Pommy quickly rushed over to Moira's side. "Moira, are you okay?" Bomberman asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"He...he wasn't like this...b-before..." Moira murmured ever so quietly, not moving a muscle. Her eyelids started to droop. "I d-don't know what...what happened. He started to change...before he left...th-three years...ago..."

"Dammit!" Bomberman shook her gently. "Stay awake, will you?"

Moira passed out.

Bomberman grit his teeth and inspected her. She was breathing fine; at least the blow hadn't snapped her neck like Bomberman thought it would. But there was a nasty-looking gash on her left cheek. He remembered the medicinal gel that Lilith had given him, and he quickly took it out of one of his jean pockets to apply it to the wound. "It'll be okay," he whispered. "Just hang in there." He handed the medicinal tin to Pommy. "Keep this safe for me, will you?"

"Myu?" Pommy held up the circular container with both hands. "O-okay. Pommy will take care of it." He wrinkled his nose. "It smells funny, though."

"It's medicine that works. That means it _has _to taste bad...or smell bad in this case."

"What? That makes no sense to Pommy!"

"Hey, if it's good enough for the professionals, it's good enough for me."

"Well, Pommy thinks Bomberman's logic sucks and cannot be found."

"Oh, come on, marshmallow, is this really the time to be debating my rhetorical tactics? Just hold on to the damn thing!"

Behemos watched this exchange with an amused expression. "You're an interesting pair," he said, chuckling. "Tell me, before you die...what's your name?"

Bomberman stood up slowly and let out a breath. "My name is Bomberman," he said, turning around, "but unfortunately for you, I'm not planning on dying today."

"Is that so?" Behemos snorted. "Well, you _have_ defeated a fellow Astral Knight already. I suppose it could very well be that I shall be the one to go instead. Not that I expect it, of course."

Bomberman held out his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Listen, I don't want to fight you or kill you," he said. "I'm only interested in getting out of here alive."

"Really?" Behemos stepped forward, and his footstep echoed around the room. "That's a simple enough matter to negotiate. All you need to do is give up your Fire Stone, and I'll let you and your companions go without another scratch."

"No dice. I need it for my own reasons." Bomberman crossed his arms. "Why are you so interested in it, anyway? Its powers can only be used by my own kind."

Behemos narrowed his eyes. "Do you know of the true power of the Elementals?"

Bomberman blinked. "Uh, no, not really. That's kind of why I was asking you about the Fire Stone in the first place."

"If you are ignorant to the power of the Elementals," Behemos said, aiming his gun, "you have no business wasting its potential on your insignificant life." A frigid wind rose up around him, and the hum of charging machinery whirred in the air. "Ice Crusher!"

Bomberman gritted his teeth. "Crap!" He quickly picked up Moira and Pommy (who clung confusedly to Moira's leg) and tried to make a break for it—

_FWAAAMM!_

A sharp, cold blast exploded right at Bomberman's heels, sending him flying through the air.

"Unngh!" He landed hard on the floor, almost crushing Moira and Pommy beneath his weight. Another icy explosion sent him scrambling for cover once again. Not even a minute into the fight and there was already an urgent situation: getting Moira and Pommy to a safe enough spot so he could concentrate on dealing with Behemos. Unfortunately, the entire place was devoid of anything to hide behind, consisting entirely of flat floor area. Bomberman gritted his teeth and produced a bomb from his place on the ground, then flung it just as Behemos unleashed another frozen blast from his gun.

_­KA-BOOM!_

The collision of two opposing elements produced a steam cloud in the air, thick enough to give Bomberman the time he needed to drop Moira and a quivering Pommy off in a corner and then make a break for the opposite end of the room to draw Behemos' attention.

"What's this?" Behemos asked once the steam had lifted. "Are we running away already?"

Bomberman's eye twitched as he skidded to a stop halfway through and whirled around. "Don't the words 'collateral-freaking-damage' mean _anything_ to you?" he growled. He formed two bombs in his hands and hurled them. "YAAAH!"

The first explosive missed Behemos, landing a short distance behind him; the second he had to guard against with his arms crossed in front of his face, where it exploded. "Nnngh!" he groaned, sliding backwards a few inches.

Taking advantage of Behemos' moment of distraction, Bomberman quickly pulled out his remote to switch from automatic mode to manual—

_FWEEEM!_

A blue laser zapped the device right out of his hands before he could do anything.

"Ack!" Bomberman dove forward to catch the remote before it hit the ground...and found it completely encased in a solid block of ice. "Aw, no..."

Behemos' laughter pounded in his ears. "Sorry, little man!" he cackled. "Thanks to Baelfael's fight, we know how you do things in your little world. Unfortunately"—and the magically chilly winds swirled around him again—"this isn't your little world anymore!"

"_Little man"? _Bomberman thought with some annoyance and a bit of surprise. _Whatever happened to your lordly airs, "big man"?_

"Wave Frost!"

Bomberman's eyes widened as giant spikes of ice shot up from the ground and roared towards him, and he flipped out of the way. He wondered briefly whether this attack was the same one that Moira had used earlier to create that frozen bridge, but he abandoned that thought in favor of trying to crack the ice around his precious remote by smacking it on the ground. No luck—the ice was thick as a brick. He'd have to break through it later when he wasn't so occupied. At least it was still on automatic mode. Bomberman reared back for a hopefully successful pass. "Hey, creampuff!" he shouted. "Catch!" And he flung the remote in a perfect arc across the room.

"Myu?" Pommy looked up.

_BONK!_

The remote landed square on Pommy's head before clattering to the ground.

"Myuuu..." Pommy toppled onto his side, dazed.

Bomberman sighed and smacked a cold palm to his face. "I hate my life."

"Frozen Shards!" A barrage of deadly sharp ice crystals exploded from Behemos' gun in rapid succession.

_P-P-P-POW!_

"Aaagh!" Caught off guard, Bomberman was bombarded with more than a few of the icy bullets. He shivered as tiny painful jolts of cold shot through his body, and attempted to buy himself time to recover by tossing three bombs at Behemos.

_BOOM! BOOM! KA-BOOM!_

But the damage had been done. Bomberman's aim was wildly off, allowing Behemos to escape Bomberman's attacks with barely a scratch. "Come _on!_" he complained. "Baelfael was defeated by _this?_ The nerd really did screw up!"

Bomberman scowled as he tried to shake off the last bits of cold from his bloodstream, but he couldn't help but be disheartened by the fact that Baelfael had really been right. There _were_ knights waiting for him that were definitely stronger than Baelfael, and now here he was fighting one of them. It was still too early to truly gauge the extent of Behemos' abilities, but it was obvious that he was much larger than Baelfael, so direct hand-to-hand combat was out of the question unless Bomberman was desperate enough to risk having his bones shattered. There was the possible consolation that Bomberman's primary element of fire technically overpowered Behemos' ice element, but Bomberman had a feeling that such a thing wouldn't be as much of a deciding factor here as it was normally assumed to be.

Behemos tapped his foot impatiently. "Hey, are you going to fight, or should I just make a snowman out of you?" he sneered.

"You won't be such a jolly happy soul when I'm through with you, Frosty!" Bomberman charged a superbomb and tossed it at Behemos.

Behemos jumped back to avoid it, then jumped to the side to avoid another. He ducked a third, sidestepped the fourth...and realized he was surrounded by a fence of super-explosives. "Oh, sh—!"

_**KA-BLAAAMM!**_

The superbombs went off in quick succession, each one fueled by the one before it.

Bomberman refrained from celebrating, remembering what had happened the last time he thought he'd landed a good hit on his opponent. Instead, he tossed four more regular bombs at Behemos, counting on the remnants of the superbombs' dying flames to explode them.

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

Behemos stumbled to the ground through the smoke, not quite melted but definitely burned. A piece of his arm guard broke off and clattered on the tile. "Ugh..." He shook his head and grimaced. "Not bad. So maybe Baelfael didn't mess up as badly as I originally thought." He half-smiled, half-winced as he got to his feet. "Excuse the irony, but it looks like I'll have to turn up the heat." He raised his right arm in the air, and the gun suddenly glowed bright blue. "Diamond Crusher!"

Bomberman slid into a defensive stance, readying himself to dodge the attack.

Behemos smirked at him...then turned to aim at Moira's still-unconscious form on the other side.

The now fully-recovered Pommy yelped. "Yeek!"

Bomberman panicked. "_NO!_"

Behemos threw his head back and laughed.

Pommy's eyes darted from side to side, desperately wondering whether to flee or guard Moira.

Bomberman sprinted madly, his feet stomping furiously against the pale blue tile.

The gun hummed louder.

Bomberman made a last-ditch leap.

The gun went off with a nearly sonic bang.

_**P-POWW!**_

"AAAUGGH!" The chilling blast slammed Bomberman hard into the corner, dumping him on top of Moira again. But he couldn't even bring himself to move this time; the force of the attack plus the subsequent collision with the wall had knocked him three-fourths out of his mind. As he lay on his back, struggling to move, all he could see were spots in front of his eyes and icy spikes that decorated the ceiling of the room...

"B-Bomberman!" Pommy squeaked. "Bomberman, get up! You're crushing Moira!"

"I w-would if I c-could!" Bomberman hissed through clenched teeth.

Behemos laughed again. "You're quick, buddy," he said, blowing away some frosty smoke from his gun. "But not quick enough, apparently."

Bomberman growled, shivering. _That asshole!_ he thought. _He __**knew**__ I was going to try and save Moira!_

"I do have to wonder what she is to you, that you'd so stupidly risk your neck to protect her," Behemos began casually, pacing the floor as Bomberman was slowly dragged off Moira's body by a frantic but determined Pommy. "A passing acquaintance? Partner-in-crime? Friend? More than a friend?" He stopped pacing and shot Bomberman a grin that was anything but amiable. "You do realize that if it's the last option, you _will_ have to answer to me."

Bomberman snorted as he finally righted himself again. "So much for not knowing she was your sister, eh?"

Behemos blinked, suddenly confused. "What?"

"HAH!" Bomberman sprang into action with a toss of a bomb.

_BOOM!_

It nailed Behemos right in the chest, pushing him back one step.

_BOOM!_

Another hit.

Another step back.

_BOOM!_

And another.

_BOOM!_

And another.

Bomberman made his way bit by bit away from Moira and Pommy as he continued to pelt Behemos with bombs. Getting himself and Behemos as far away from Moira and Pommy as possible was the priority at the moment. Once that was done, then he could figure out what to do about Behemos.

Smoke filled the air as bomb after bomb exploded. After his umpteenth throw, Bomberman paused for a break, resting his palms on his knees and panting heavily. He winced at how sharp the cold air seemed in his lungs now, and mused that it probably hadn't been a good idea to keep up such a constant assault, especially considering his already less-than-ideal condition. He wondered just how much damage he'd dealt in that amount of time. If it was substantial, Bomberman hoped that Behemos would be willing to consider surrender...if he was still alive after all that, that is.

The haze faded away. Sunlight once again glinted in the icy dungeon. And now Bomberman could see the scorched form of Behemos kneeling weakly in the middle of the floor. He appeared to be breathing heavily; a good part of his armor was either missing, cracked, or melted. He tried to raise a knee to stand, but failed, sliding back down into a slouched sitting position.

Bomberman took a few tentative steps forward. "Like I said," he began, "I don't want to kill you, and I don't want to fight anymore. Will you let us go?"

Behemos shuddered. At first, Bomberman thought he was in pain, and his instinct told him to go and help him. It took him a few moments to realize that the half-dead man was _laughing._

"You toss a few fireworks at me and you think you've got it made?" Behemos finally made it back up to a standing position, but his posture was noticeably hunched and his voice hoarse. "I don't think so, buddy. You're running with the big guys now, so you damn well better play like them." He lifted his gun and aimed. "Ice Storm!"

_SHRAAA-__**BAAMM!**_

Bomberman's vision suddenly exploded in white as a snowstorm blasted him full in the face, sending him flying backwards into the wall again.

_SLAM!_

He slid to the cold ground, disoriented.

_KA-SHHRAAASSSH!_

Icicles suddenly rained on him from above, having been shaken loose by the impact of his body against the wall.

"Aaggh!" Bomberman flailed at them furiously.

An ominous humming alerted him to the charging of Behemos' gun, and Bomberman scrambled out of the way just as another hit landed where he had once been. _**BLAAMMM!**_

_That gun,_ Bomberman thought, charging a superbomb. _I have to destroy that gun, or at least disable it!_

"Frozen Shards!"

Bomberman grit his teeth and hurled the superbomb, wincing at the effort.

_P-P-P-P-POW!_

_KA-BOOM!_

Steam rose up from the clash of elemental powers.

Behemos wasn't fazed. "Ice Crusher!"

_FWEEEEM!_

Bomberman dodged by rolling to the side. He evaded a second Ice Crusher by diving forward. No sooner had he gotten back up than he was met by more frozen bullets.

_Dammit, he's going to nail me at this distance!_ Bomberman realized. His shoulders and back throbbed painfully from having smashed into a hard surface one too many times. _And there's no guarantee that I can get a hit on that thing from here. I need to get closer! _He swallowed. _But how am I going to do that without getting myself killed?_

"You look a little steamed, Bomberman!" Behemos gleefully called, readying yet another attack. "Don't worry, I'm sure this'll cool you down! Diamond Crusher!"

Bomberman turned to make a run for it...and spotted the mess of icicles that had fallen on him.

He froze for a brief moment in thought.

His eyes traveled up towards the ceiling.

Behemos' gun glowed.

_VMMMMM!_

Bomberman looked over his shoulder.

The gun fired.

_KA-__**POWW!**_

Bomberman jumped to the side.

He conjured a bomb and flung it in Behemos' direction, aiming high.

_BOOM!_

It struck gold.

_KA-SHRAAASSH!_

More icy stalactites poured onto the playing field.

"Graaagh!" Behemos tried to bat them away the best he could, sending them flying in all directions. As the frozen frenzy died down, he shook the icy pieces from his shoulders...and was suddenly aware of Bomberman charging at him with a bomb in hand. Behemos stepped back and prepared to fire—

Bomberman hurled the bomb.

_BOOM!_

Behemos cried out and jolted back as the bomb exploded by his left shoulder. His eye twitched in pain.

Bomberman barreled in with a ready fist. "HYAAAH!"

_BAM!_

Behemos jerked as Bomberman's knuckles buried into his right cheekbone. He snarled and retaliated with a fist of his own.

Bomberman dropped down to avoid it, then stuck out a leg to catch Behemos behind his knees.

Behemos' legs buckled. His skull hit the floor. _CRASH! _

Bomberman prepared to land a hit on Behemos' gun—

_WHAM!_

Behemos flung a foot out to kick Bomberman in the face.

Bomberman stumbled backwards and slid across the ground, his cheek pulsing in pain. The coppery taste of blood seeped into his tongue. His fingers curled around a large icicle lying nearby, and on a whim he brought it up against his cheek.

Behemos managed to pull himself to a semi-kneeling position. He shakily lifted his gun. "D-Diamond Crusher!"

Bomberman stared as the gun glowed its menacing blue.

_VMM-MMMM!_

Only half-conscious of what he was doing, he got to his feet...

Turned around...

And ran _at_ Behemos at full speed.

Behemos smirked at him as the gun whirred to life. "It's your funeral, not mine!"

Bomberman performed a slide-kick...slid towards Behemos...and jammed the icicle he'd been holding right into the barrel of the gun. "HAAAH!"

The gun glowed bright.

And then brighter.

And then it sparked.

Heavily.

Bomberman scrambled to his feet again and made a break for the other side of the room.

Behemos' eyes went wide. "Wh-what the hell—?"

_KA-__**BLAM!**_

The gun exploded.

"AAAUUGH!" Behemos fell back, clutching at his arm. The explosion had blown off the last of the armor on his right arm and had left a considerable amount of heavily blistered skin in the process of doing so. "What the hell j-just happened?"

Bomberman took a breath and swallowed the blood that had been pooling in his mouth. "You don't have your weapon anymore, Behemos," he said quietly. "Let's stop this."

"_Don't take pity on me, you pathetic little bastard!"_ Behemos thundered, standing up even though he was clearly in pain doing so. He slipped off what remained of the gun and tossed it aside before sneering at Bomberman. "You're an idiot if you think I'm helpless without this thing!" He threw out both hands. "Crystal Beam!"

Bomberman wasn't fast enough to even turn around.

_FWEEEMM! _

_**BLAM!**_

Bomberman looked down...and found that both of his feet were now securely frozen to the floor.

"Damn!" he swore, trying to yank himself free. _Damn, damn, damn!_

"Hahaha!" Behemos lifted his hands high above his head. They glowed blinding blue, bitter cold winds circling them in a miniature ice storm. "Nice try, but no cigar! I'll be seeing you in the underworld!" He prepared to launch his attack. "Blizzard Dragon!"

"Aqua Spread!"

_SPLAASSSH!_

Behemos was suddenly doused in a torrent of cold water. "Aaaugh!" he grunted, shaking the water drops the best that he could from his hair. He tried to wipe the liquid from his face...and found he couldn't.

His eyes glanced upwards.

His hands were securely frozen in a large chunk of ice.

Behemos' eyes narrowed. "What the _hell?_"

Bomberman's head snapped up. There in the corner, weakly supporting herself on one elbow with her other hand outstretched, was Moira. "Moira?" he said. "When did you...?"

Moira didn't look at him. She lowered her hand...then lowered her head. "Do...what you have to do," she whispered.

Bomberman stared. "What? B-but—"

"_Do it!"_ Moira clenched her eyes shut. "_Please!_"

Bomberman gulped and shook his head. _No..._ One death was already one too many for him. _No! _he repeated in his mind._ No, no, __**no!**__ I can still fix things! There's still a chance for—_

Behemos growled. "I've had just enough of you, girl," he spat. He grunted and jerked his arms, breaking them free from the ice. _SHHRRAAKK! _He shook out the remaining bits from his arms. "I'll freeze you to your bones before I beat you to your bones!"

Moira's eyes opened again. She slowly gazed up in terror and shock at the looming figure of Behemos coming ever so closer to her.

Pommy gasped and buried his face in her arm.

Behemos held out a glowing hand. "Crystal B—"

There was no second-guessing for Bomberman now.

_BOOM!_

A bomb slammed into Behemos' back.

He wheezed...and teetered forward...

_BOOM!_

A second bomb blew Behemos' feet right out from under him.

He crashed to the ground.

_WHAM!_

He lay there in a battered heap, slightly curled up.

Bomberman drew a breath.

Moira held a breath.

Moments passed.

Behemos began to stir once more...

_**KA-BOOM!**_

And a superbomb silenced him for good.

Behemos—or what was left of him—went limp, blood starting to pool on the floor around him.

Pommy let out a breath.

Moira hung her head.

Bomberman lowered his outstretched arm, only now realizing what he'd just done. He began to shake rather violently—and he suspected it wasn't just from the cold. He tried to steady himself the best he could, and bent over to pound a fist on the ice encasing his legs. With a few good hits, he was able to crack the ice enough so that he could break free by wiggling each of his legs. With that done, he approached Behemos, intending to check if the Astral Knight was really dead. He knelt down beside Behemos to check for a pulse.

To Bomberman's horror, as soon as he touched Behemos' wrist, Behemos' body froze over and then crumbled to a fine, snowy powder. He instantly drew back, revolted.

"Myu...?" Pommy trotted over to join Bomberman. He trudged fearlessly through the powder and sniffed at a small mound in the middle of the mess. He swept the powder off to reveal a small gemstone shaped like a teardrop. "What's this?" he asked, picking it up.

Bomberman slowly reached over and took the stone from Pommy, brushing the last bits of white off it. The stone was the same brilliant blue as the sky and glimmered with an aura that Bomberman couldn't identify. He half-expected the stone to suddenly blow up in his hand and freeze him solid. He half-wished it would. Bomberman clasped the stone tightly in his hand, and he felt it give off a faint pulse of cold, like a heartbeat.

A soft sigh reminded Bomberman of the other person present in the room. He quickly made his way over to Moira, who had pulled herself up to a sitting position. "Are you...are you all right?" he asked. "You're not hurt too badly?"

Moira gave him a small smile, though her eyes wavered slightly. "I'm fine." She took Bomberman's hand and got to her feet. "I'll live." She sniffled and wiped her sleeve across her eyes. "I'll...l-live..."

Bomberman bit his lip and resisted the urge to smack himself in the face right then and there. _Damn. Damn, damn, __**damn. **_"L-listen," he began. "I'm...really sorry about all this...you know."

Moira nodded absently, staring obliquely past Bomberman.

Bomberman swallowed and willed his blood to pump through his veins again. "I didn't mean to...that is, I didn't want to..." He sighed, realizing his words were failing him more than usual. "H-here," he said, holding out the gem he'd just found. "You can have this."

Moira stole a brief glance at it. "I don't want it," she said.

"But this is...this is from...that is to say, wasn't that your—?"

"He _wasn't_ my brother!" Moira insisted, her choked voice attesting to a withheld truth. "He...he wasn't my brother," she repeated quietly. "Bem would...n-never...hurt me..." She closed her eyes and hugged herself loosely. Tears spilled out from beneath her eyelashes. "He would never...even _think_ about it..."

There was a silence broken only by a sudden crash of ocean waves outside. Bomberman finally just pocketed the gem, feeling it would be wrong somehow to leave it behind. He walked over and picked up his still-frozen remote, gazing forlornly at it. Water dripped between his fingers as the ice began to gradually melt from the heat of his hand. It dripped...and dripped...and dripped...

"B-Bomberman?" came Pommy's timid voice. "Is Bomberman oka—"

Bomberman spun around and hurled the remote into the wall.

_KA-KKRASSH!_

The ice around the remote shattered into pieces upon impact.

The remote itself landed safely on the tiled floor. _CLUNK!_

Moira and Pommy looked up at Bomberman wide-eyed.

Bomberman rested a fist on the wall and grit his teeth.

_Two deaths...too many..._


	12. Aquanet: Through the Ice and Frost

The continuation of their journey into the ancient mazes of Aquanet was considerably more melancholy than before. Even Pommy sensed the change in mood, and remained mercifully silent as he, Bomberman, and Moira attempted to trek into warmer territory. Bomberman couldn't bear to look at Moira as he walked, so he chose to stay a good distance ahead of her and Pommy while still making sure not to lose her in the twisting corridors and countless staircases. Meanwhile, his thoughts were in disarray, alternating between wondering where the Gravity Generator could be on Aquanet and coming to terms with his second casualty. He tried to focus on the former—that was the practical thing to do. But all he could see in his mind's eye was white, powdery death.

_I shouldn't have acted so fast,_ Bomberman thought. _I didn't think. I..._

But that was just it. He _couldn't_ have thought, could he? Not when Behemos clearly intended to harm Moira, not when Behemos clearly intended to kill Bomberman, and one could only guess what he would have done to Pommy. Three lives for one: that was what Bomberman had bought with his actions. He recalled part of the mission statement that was recited every year by General Jun to incoming students of Bomber Base:

"_You, as a member of Bomber Base, are advised to keep two things in mind when you set out on your missions. First, you will accomplish any task that is assigned to you as timely as possible, in a manner that befits a member of the Base. Secondly, when you accomplish your tasks, you will do so in a way that minimizes casualties and collateral damage, for it is inevitable that unforseen damages will occur in this line of work. After all, our bombs are not the most precise of methods, being indifferent to friend and foe alike. Thusly, it is up to you to keep damages incurred from your actions as low as possible."_

"_Don't the words 'collateral-freakin'-damage' mean __**anything**__ to you?"_ had been Bomberman's own words to Behemos. Obviously they hadn't; Behemos had proved that he was willing to kill Bomberman and Moira, was willing to even annihilate half a city all for the sake of a silly little stone. The cost of letting Behemos go free was too high. There had been no choice but to kill him—"defusing" was the slang term among the elite task force at the Base for this sort of action. The numbers seemed to speak of the rightness of the situation: one life was nothing compared to how many others might have been taken. But numbers had never been Bomberman's strong point, and he was faced with the realization that Behemos' single life had meant the entire world to another person.

Bomberman swallowed, suddenly feeling light-headed and numb. He placed a hand on a nearby pillar to steady his balance. He had to stop this, he told himself. There was no time for such regrets, and no energy to be spared for feeling sorry for himself. Everything he could muster needed to be directed towards one thing and one thing only, and that was getting himself—and the two others with him—out of the black hole and back home as safely as possible.

"Bomberman?" came Moira's concerned inquiry. "Are you okay?"

Bomberman snapped back to reality. He nodded. "I...I just need a little time to rest my feet, that's all. We've been walking for a while, you know."

"Do you know where we're going?"

"I know what we're looking for." Bomberman sighed. "But I have no clue where it might be."

Moira sat down and leaned back against a wall. "Is it that generator thing you asked about before?"

"Yeah. It's what created this black hole in the first place. There's supposed to be one on every planet in here. Disable all of them, and the black hole should disappear."

Moira shrugged apologetically. "Like I said, I didn't hear anything about that while I was in Nereid. If I had, I would've told you."

Pommy sat down beside Moira, looking tired and sad. He suddenly blinked and jumped up again, startled.

Bomberman looked at Pommy strangely. "What's gotten into you?"

Pommy lifted a floppy ear and pressed it to the wall, listening intently. "Myu! Do you hear that?"

Bomberman likewise leaned in close to the wall. He frowned. "I don't hear a thing."

"It sounds like machines are nearby!"

Moira strained to hear. "I can't hear anything, either."

"Are you sure about this, Pommy?" Bomberman asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pommy looked offended. "Myu! It's not Pommy's fault that Bomberman's hearing sucks! Pommy has excellent hearing, can hear a bee buzzing from half a mile away or a whisper through a brick wall!"

Bomberman raised his other eyebrow. _Well, you learn something new every day. _He rapped on the wall with his kunckles. "The wall's too thick for me to blast though, even with a couple of superbombs," he muttered. "We'll have to follow it and see if we can find an entrance, or at least a place where it's thinner."

The three of them trooped along the wall and turned a corner. Before them lay a long, empty hallway, with three large marble gargoyles on thick pedestals lining both walls. At the end of the hall on its left side was a large metal door. "Well, if this isn't the most riveting thing we've ever seen," Bomberman remarked, continuing forward. "Let's go. At least it's a straightaway—"

_CHNK!_

"Huh?" Bomberman looked down, and saw that the tile beneath his foot had receded slightly into the floor. "What the—"

_CREAAAAKK!_

A section of the wall nearby loosened and fell towards Bomberman. He quickly jumped back.

_SLAA-MAASHH!_

The wall slammed onto the floor and cracked into giant, jagged pieces upon impact, sending up small clouds of fine dust.

Bomberman swallowed. "Whew. Close call."

"A trap?" Pommy whimpered.

"There's probably more up ahead," Moira said, kicking aside a couple of the pieces of the fallen wall. "These things never come in one clean package."

"Myu..." Pommy looked worried. "How are we going to know where the traps are?"

"We're not," Bomberman said. "Which is the point." He glanced out at the hall. "However, if my instincts aren't off, this is actually a good thing for us."

Pommy blinked. "How are traps here a good thing?"

"Easy. It means there's something nearby that needs to be protected from the outside. And if we're lucky, that 'something' is going to be that stupid Gravity Generator."

"Oh." A pause. "But Pommy still doesn't like not knowing where the traps are."

"Well, that's just how these things go." Bomberman hummed thoughtfully for a bit. "Let me test something." He switched his remote to manual mode, created a small smoke bomb, and tossed it forward, detonating it in mid-air.

_BOOM!_

The hall filled with thick, dark smoke.

Moira and Pommy broke down into small coughing fits.

Bomberman simpered; his own lungs had a natural immunity to a certain amount of smoke. "Sorry about that, guys." He squinted through the haze. "No infrared sensors?" he said, surprised. "They must be doing things old-school."

"Aquanet is an old geezer of a planet," Moira remarked after she cleared her throat. "Why wouldn't they be hoofin' it old-school?"

"Yeah, but if the BHB Army has the know-how to implement something as advanced as a Gravity Generator in a place like this, they'd definitely have the technology to put in more technologically advanced traps around it."

"Which may or may not include the ability to remain undetected from something as technologically simple as a smoke screen?"

Bomberman simpered yet again. "Point taken."

Moira smirked, then returned to a more serious expression as she surveyed the deadly silent hall. "Hmm...let's try something else." She held out a glowing hand. "Aqua Spread!"

_SPPLAASSH!_

A small wave of water roared down the entire length of the hallway, crashing impressively into nonexistence at the other end. But nothing stirred.

Moira frowned. "Well, if there's any sensors on the traps here, they don't appear to be motion-activated. So they're most likely heat-activated or manually activated."

"Which means..."

"We'd have to set the traps off ourselves if we want to get anywhere."

"As I thought." Bomberman smiled. "You've got good deductive skills, you know."

Moira blushed with pride.

"All right." Bomberman let out a breath. "You two stay here. I'll go and set off all the traps so that it'll be safe for you guys to cross."

"What?" Moira crossed her arms. "Don't leave _me_ out of the fun!"

"Moira, this is hardly fun," Bomberman said, feeling his admiration for her turn quickly into annoyance.

"For you, maybe." Moira flipped her hair and smiled. "But this is the type of thing I eat for breakfast!"

"Myu, Pommy wants to go too!" Pommy hopped up beside Moira. "Pommy's the greatest hero in the universe!"

"Puffball, you are _not_," Bomberman scowled, "so stop while you're ahead." To Moira, he said, "Look, I really do appreciate you helping me out all those times before, but I don't want you to possibly get hurt again. That last time with...that last time was a really close call."

"But..."

"Just—please. Let me do this, okay?"

After a long, tense pause, Moira slowly nodded, silently acknowledging what neither of them currently had the courage to talk about. "Okay," she said quietly. "But..." She lifted a stern finger and pointed it at Bomberman. "You gotta be careful, you got me? I'm not going to be a happy clam if you're not!"

Bomberman did a double-take, unsure what to make of this comment. "Er...I'm always careful," he responded. "Anyway, you're staying behind as well, Pommy, and if I catch you trying to follow me you'll be fried before you can say 'smores'."

Pommy rolled his eyes. "Bomberman's no fun."

_Why does everyone want me to be "fun" today? _Bomberman thought grumpily. _Is being stuck in a black hole with no way out and two deaths on my hands supposed to be some sort of happy occasion that I missed the memo about?_ He placed his hands on his hips and gazed out once again at the deceptively innocuous hallway. "Well, here goes," he said. And he marched forward, keeping a steady but light pace.

The first couple of steps were uneventful. Bomberman had to resist the urge to backtrack just to make sure he hadn't skipped over a possible trap switch. As he approached the first set of gargoyles, he felt his left foot step on something.

_CH-CHNK!_

_VRRRMMMM!_

The two gargoyles suddenly rotated on their pedestals to face Bomberman, their eyes glowing an eerie yellow. Their mouths creaked open to fire a stream of sharp, gleaming ice needles.

_RAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TAT!_

Bomberman stumbled madly down the hall, doing his best to dodge the projectiles. He dove to the side and pressed himself up against one of the pedestals, out of the line of fire. Within another minute, the barrage stopped.

_So that's how it is,_ he mused. _The gargoyles aren't just for show—they're part of the defense. And they're activated by a floor switch, like that one wall was. _He peeked out from behind the pedestal. All of a sudden, the gargoyles seemed even more menacing than before.

"Bomberman?" Moira called. "Are you okay?"

"I'll survive." Bomberman got to his feet and continued on his way.

The second set of gargoyles loomed ahead of him. Bomberman mentally and physically readied himself for another assault. He covered a wider area in his steps, checking the floor around him every few feet or so to make sure he hadn't missed something.

_CH-CHNK!_

That was the switch. Bomberman swiftly backstepped and moved sideways, intending to hide and wait out the barrage. Unfortunately, he set off another trap switch in the process.

_CHNK!_

_CREAAAAKK!_

Bomberman looked over his shoulder and saw another section of wall ready to flatten him. He dove forward onto the ground.

_SLAAA-MAASSH!_

The wall crashed behind Bomberman, missing his feet by an inch.

Bomberman crawled forward on the floor, keeping as low as possible as he scrambled for one of the gargoyle's blind spots. Once the gargoyles had ceased their fire, he stood up again. "Oy," he muttered. "That's two rounds down, and one more to go...hopefully."

"Myu!" Pommy cheered. "You can do it, Bomberman! Pommy will be there to save you if you're in trouble!"

_Somehow, that sentiment doesn't really make me feel better. _Bomberman resisted the urge to glare at Pommy, and instead proceeded to face down the final set of gargoyles.

His footsteps echoed softly off the polished marble walls as he walked. Despite being slightly rattled at having been caught off guard by an auxiliary trap, Bomberman continued to check his steps to ensure he wouldn't miss something. He wasn't going to risk having either Moira or Pommy get hurt because of his carelessness.

It wasn't until Bomberman was almost face-to-face with one of the gargoyles that he realized that something strange was going on. _I'm almost past these guys and I haven't set anything off yet? _he thought, instantly suspicious. He glanced over his shoulder to see if there was something that was quietly sneaking up on him, ready to rip out his spine at the next possible moment, but no, there was only the petite form of Moira watching him patiently from a distance, with Pommy at her side. Nothing stirred up from the rubble of the fallen wall panels, nor did the gargoyles seem inclined to swoop in on him anytime soon. Despite the silence and inaction of the scenery, it wasn't a reassuring sight at all. Nonetheless, Bomberman continued forward...and stepped on the final trap switch.

_CHNK!_

All six gargoyles turned on him. They opened their mouths...and extended their wings from their bodies to produce two extra laser guns per gargoyle.

Bomberman's mouth dropped. "Oh, you've _got_ to be kid—!"

_VRRRRMMKA-P-P-P-POW! __**BLAAAMM!**_

Bomberman scrambled out of the way just in time to avoid being incinerated by the initial blast, which left a sizable smoking crater in the ground where he'd just been. He swore frantically as he fled the lasers and ice needles, stumbling on the slick tiled floor, but he skidded to a stop when he realized that he'd already reached the end of the hallway. _Dammit...!_

"Glacier Shelf!"

_SHWEEEM-__**BAM!**_

A thick wall of ice suddenly sprung up behind Bomberman, shielding him from the incoming gunfire. Chunks of ice flew off as shots sailed into and past the wall, and Bomberman ducked to the floor.

_P-P-P-POW! P-P-__**POW!**_

After a seemingly interminable period of time, the firing ceased, leaving only ghostly reverberations in their wake. Bomberman waited about fifteen more seconds, then cautiously peeked out from behind the wall, which now featured an interesting collection of clumps of ice needles and steaming holes. "Thanks again, Moira," he said, smiling sheepishly.

Moira smirked as she made her way over to Bomberman, with Pommy following close behind."You owe me big time, you know," she said.

"No kidding," Bomberman said, grinning. "I'll write a reminder on my hand as soon as I can get a pen."

Moira suddenly gasped. "You're hurt!"

"What?" Bomberman inspected himself for the alleged damage. Sure enough, on his lower left leg, there was a series of bloody rips across the once-white denim, tinged ever so slightly on the edges with frost. _Er...wow. How did I miss noticing this? _"It's nothing major," he said. "At least, it doesn't seem like it to me."

"_Nothing major?_ Half your leg is red already!" Moira tugged at the hem of her shirt and began to carefully rip a piece of fabric from it.

"I'll be fine," Bomberman insisted. "You don't have to..."

Moira ignored him. "Come on, come on...ah, jeez, it won't tear this way. Pommy, can you bite this thing off right here? Thanks." With that done, she went over to Bomberman and tied the fabric snugly around his leg. She stepped back, humming as she surveyed her handiwork. "Not perfect, but it'll have to do for now. After all, we can't have you suddenly fainting from blood loss at a crucial moment." She snickered. "Little ol' me wouldn't be strong enough to haul you around."

Bomberman laughed and shook his head. "Man, I'm so screwed. With everything you're doing for me, I'll never be able to repay you."

"Well, you could—" Moira started.

"Hmm?"

Moira flushed and turned away. "N-never mind."

"A-all right, then." Bomberman turned his attention to the door, looking it over. "Looks like this is locked by a keypad. You wouldn't happen to know how to hack as well, would you?"

Moira shook her head.

Bomberman shrugged. "Then we'll have to do things the messy way." He set three superbombs by the door, then herded Moira and Pommy a safe distance away before activating the explosives.

_**KA-BOOOMM!**_

The door melted down into a steaming heap of molten metal. A familiar siren sounded from above.

Bomberman sprinted for the now-open doorway. "Let's move it!" he said. "Security knows we're here—we're gonna have to make this quick!"

Upon entering, Bomberman spotted the Gravity Generator in the middle of the room and congratulated his instincts (and Lady Luck, just to be on the safe side) for a job well done. The place was considerably more level than its Alcatraz counterpart, and he spotted all four control pylons at once. "Simpler and simpler," he sighed dramatically. "Moira, take care of Pommy again, will you? I'll deal with these things." He tossed a bomb at the nearest pylon.

_­KA-BOOM!_

Much to Bomberman's surprise and chagrin, the pylon remained remarkably intact.

"Huh?" He blinked. "I was sure I'd landed that one..." Bomberman walked closer to the pylon, intending to set a bomb right next to it in order to ensure a hit, but about a foot from the device, he yelped and jumped back. "Ack!" he exclaimed. "What in—? There's something weird around this thing!"

"Moira to the rescue once again!" Moira approached the pylon and held out a slender hand. She winced and drew back. "It's a heat field," she concluded, shaking her hand out. "I've dealt with these a few times before—I know how to disable them."

"Really?" Bomberman asked, surprised. _Where would she have gotten experience with something like shutting down a heat field? _"Chalk that up for another 'IOU' from me, then. What do we need to do?"

"We have to shut off the heat completely, then force-cool it into the mechanical afterlife. There should be some place where you can fiddle with the temperature."

Bomberman scanned the room again. He noticed a small control panel in the wall nearby. "This might be it," he said, running his fingers over the keys. "There's something here for temperature control."

"Good. Can you shut it off?"

Bomberman did so.

_BEEP-BEEP!_

Moira carefully tested the air with her hand. "Nothing's changed," she said, frowning.

Bomberman checked the LCD screen on the control panel. "Well, the temperature's reading as zero right now," he said. "Maybe this controls a different pylon? Security designers have the annoying habit of doing that sort of thing."

"I'll go check." Moira started to head for another pylon nearer to the Gravity Generator.

_BAM!_

A set of doors on the other side of the room suddenly burst open, slamming hard against the walls. A team of black-attired guards poured in, all wielding laser rifles. "Freeze!" one of them yelled. "You've been caught red-handed!"

"Eeek!" Moira dropped to her knees and put her hands over her head.

Pommy squeaked and put his hands over his eyes. "Myu! They've got us!"

"You there!" a guard ordered, pointing his rifle at Bomberman. "Hands up in the air! _I said hands in the air!_"

Bomberman obeyed.

Within moments, Bomberman, Pommy, and Moira were each surrounded by a group of black-suited, gun-toting BHB guards.

"All right, mister, who are you and what are you doing here?" one of them snarled at Bomberman.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Bomberman muttered under his breath.

_KA-SPANG!_ A warning shot singed the arm of Bomberman's sweatshirt.

"Hey, cut me a break!" Bomberman protested. "This sweatshirt's already been through hell and back with cherries on top!"

"I'm not in the mood for funny stuff, kid." The guard re-charged his rifle. "Let's try this again. Who are you...and what are you doing here?"

"I'm a nameless captive of this android slave factory attempting to figure out who I really am and what my purpose is for existing."

_KA-SPANG! _The second shot zipped right past Bomberman's face.

"Bomberman!" Moira and Pommy both yelled out.

"Do your smartass routine one more time," the guard growled, "and it's going through your heart. Are you going to answer my questions, or am I going to have to serve you as the next helping of mashed potatoes in the mess hall?"

"Oh, surely you could choose a dish a little more dignified than _that!_" Bomberman retorted. He conjured a smoke bomb and slammed it into the floor.

_BOOM!_

The generator room filled with the familiar dark smoke, followed soon enough by the requisite chorus of startled coughs and occasional four-letter word.

The guard who had been interrogating Bomberman looked around frantically. "That bastard!" he spat. "Men, fire at—"

_WHAM!_

Bomberman delivered a knife hand to the side of the guard's neck from behind.

The guard crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Moira's slightly hoarse voice could be heard over the commotion. "Wave Frost!"

Bomberman just missed being sideswiped by an icy shockwave as he dropped to the floor to sweep-kick a second guard off his feet. He left a bomb by the dazed man before turning his (rather obscured) sights to two more guards ready to fire on him.

_SP-SP-SP-SPANG!_

Bomberman ducked to the floor again, then flung two bombs at the guards, knocking them over. The haze from the smoke bomb was now beginning to fade to the point where, although Bomberman couldn't see the walls of the room, he could at least see the people who weren't immediately around him, which included Moira and about five guards (ten if you counted the five that had been frozen to the floor by Moira's Wave Frost). "Moira, can you take the two nearest to you?" Bomberman shouted, backhanding one of the guards.

Moira grinned. "Easy breezy!" she replied, clapping her hands together. Her palms flashed pale blue. _SHWEEEM! _"Aqua Tempest!"

_KERSSPLAAASSSH!_

Bomberman's eyes widened as a miniature tsunami suddenly roared out from around Moira. His yelp of surprise upon being clotheslined by the attack was accompanied by the varied screams and yells of the five remaining guards caught in the wave, which were quickly followed by the _th-thump! _of their bodies against the walls of the generator room.

_FWUMP!_

Bomberman slid to the ground headfirst, and somehow managed to count ten yellow chicks dancing a tribal jig in front of his eyes. The chicks scattered within the next minute, chased off his line of sight by Moira's skinny legs. "Sorry about that," Moira's legs apologized. "Was it overkill?"

_Funny, she sounds like someone else I know, _Bomberman thought, still in a daze. "Not at all," he mumbled, scrambling to get into an upright position again. His damp clothes squished disturbingly against his skin with his movements. "Did it at least knock out the rest of the guards?"

"If it didn't, I froze them to make sure."

Bomberman looked around. Sure enough, the guards were either on the ground unconscious or frozen to the ground from their shoulders down. He was about to thank Moira for helping him out yet again when he suddenly noticed something strange about some of them. "Moira...what did you do to their faces?" he asked, giving her a strange look.

"Oh, that?" Moira said. "I just froze their mouths shut so they couldn't yell at us. That gets really annoying, you know."

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" one of the guards suddenly shrieked, struggling in his icy bonds. "I'M GOING TO RIP YOU TO SHREDS, YOU ANOREXIC LITTLE—"

Moira whirled around and flicked a blue-glowing hand in the guard's general direction.

_FWEEEM!_

A layer of ice suddenly wrapped around the guard's mouth, effectively silencing him.

Moira looked at Bomberman and simpered. "Whoops. Guess I missed one."

Bomberman let out a shaky laugh. "Well...you certainly know how to cover all bases."

"Myuuu...are all the bad guys gone now?" Pommy peeked out from behind a second control panel built into a small pillar near the Gravity Generator.

"As gone as they can get," Bomberman said, going over to check on the first control panel he'd been at before the guards had showed up. "Ah, damn, the thing reset itself." He entered the appropriate commands again. "Moira, can you check the pylons now and see which one this controls?"

With the help of Pommy, who helped sniff out a third control panel hidden in a floor tile and located a fourth one inside a decoy machine in a corner, Bomberman and Moira took out the force field pylons. After Bomberman shut off the heat from a control panel, Moira froze the respective pylon with a Wave Frost attack, which was quickly followed up with a bomb from Bomberman's end. Four repetitions of this successfully disabled the Gravity Generator's force field, and Bomberman and Moira gleefully reduced the generator itself to pieces.

"Myu!" Pommy cheered. "Way to go, you two!"

Moira giggled. "Oh, come on, munchie, you helped too," she said, bending down to scoop Pommy into her arms. She looked over at Bomberman. "Are we good to go, then?"

Bomberman nodded. "Let's beat it."


	13. Aquanet: Not Your Supergirl

They exited through the second set of doors in the generator room, following the next hallway through its twists, turns, and staircases. To Bomberman's relief, it wasn't long before they could ascend a staircase up to a platform in the open air. Judging by the position of the sun (Bomberman was suddenly struck with the unusual fact that it had actually survived the descent into the black hole), it seemed to be late in the afternoon, possibly nearing dinnertime.

At the thought of a meal, Bomberman's stomach growled at him again, reminding him that he hadn't had anything to eat since last night. He sighed. He wasn't a heavy eater by any stretch of the imagination, and he did have a habit of skipping at least one meal a day, but he certainly needed _something_ in his stomach to function. Maybe he could catch a fish or two and do some impromptu bomb frying before heading off Aquanet...?

"Myu, look!" Pommy said, hopping down from Moira's arms and pointing excitedly. "It's our plane!"

Bomberman looked. The ugly little plane they'd snatched from the BHB hangar on Alcatraz sat innocently on a platform not too far from where they had just emerged. His mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Bel's hells!" he exclaimed, smacking a palm to his head. "All that trouble we went through down in the labyrinths to find the Gravity Generator _and it was right here all along?_"

"Well...um...Pommy doesn't think we couldn't have gotten over here without Moira anyway, right?" Pommy asked, looking hopeful. "So it's good that we were able to go down and Moira and meet her so she could help us!"

Moira struck a smug pose. "Admit it," she said. "You two would've been _totally_ helpless without me."

Bomberman laughed. "I won't argue with that. So let's mosey—we can't get out of here soon enough."

The three of them platform-hopped as far as they could. When they reached a dead end, Moira froze a sturdy ice path for them to follow all the way to the plane.

Upon reaching it, Bomberman walked around the spacecraft, doing a cursory inspection. The sunlight gleamed warmly off the black matte paint job. "Well, it looks all right to me," he said uncertainly. "I just hope nothing spontaneously combusted while we were away, though..."

"Oh, that's your plane? I'd been wondering whose it was."

Bomberman looked up, his heart fluttering at the too-familiar voice. "Lilith!"

Lilith flew in and landed gracefully on the platform. "Nice to see you again," she said, waving. "So that's what you're using to get around, eh? Where'd you get it from?"

"Heh..." Bomberman scratched the back of his neck. "I sorta 'borrowed' it from Alcatraz."

Lilith laughed. "You're clearly a man after my own heart."

Bomberman blushed a little.

"Myu!" Pommy skipped up to Lilith. "Pommy's glad to see that Lilith's all right!"

Lilith reached down to pat Pommy on the head. "I'm glad to see you too, you hyperactive little...thing...you." She raised an eyebrow when she noticed Bomberman's bandaged leg. "Is your leg okay? That looks kind of bad."

Bomberman shook his head. "It's nothing," he insisted.

"Well, all right, if you say so." Lilith straightened up and glanced at Moira. "And I see you've acquired another traveling companion."

"The name's Moira," Moira said, waving an introductory hand.

Lilith nodded. "Lilith, here." She narrowed her eyes slightly at Moira...then suddenly turned back to Bomberman. "You managed to defeat Behemos, didn't you?"

Bomberman blinked. How did she figure _that_ out? "Er, yes," he said, trying not to dwell on the memory any longer than necessary.

"Did you find one of the stones I was telling you about?"

With a shaky hand, Bomberman drew out the teardrop-shaped gemstone that he'd retrieved from the remains of Behemos' body and held it out to Lilith.

Lilith didn't take it or touch it, simply surveying it from a distance. "That's the Water Stone," she said. "Embodiment of the elemental power of water—no surprises there." She paused. "Does that stone help you out, too?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was just thinking...you said that the Fire Stone powers your bombs, right? If the Water Stone is an Elemental Stone just like your Fire Stone...shouldn't it do something for your bombs, too?"

Bomberman paused. He hadn't considered that possibility. Actually, he hadn't even known he was carrying an Elemental Stone all this time, although in retrospect he marveled at how impressively slow on the uptake he'd been lately. That was twice already that he hadn't made the connection between what Lilith had talked about and what he came across in reality. He pondered the idea that perhaps being in this black hole was slowly sucking all the gray matter out from his ears. Then he decided that the more productive idea to ponder was how he was supposed to use the Water Stone if what Lilith said was true. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've never used anything but the Fire Stone before."

"Couldn't you at least try?"

Well, anything for the redheaded goddess standing before him, of course. But Bomberman was a little curious about the matter himself. Bombers like him were born with the element of their explosives, whether it be fire (the most common), electricity, or water. The only way to get around this was if a bomber were outfitted with a microchip or another similarly-functioning device that would temporarily alter the way the chi materialized outside of his or her body. As a pyrokinetic, Bomberman had the ability to slightly alter the nature and flow of his chi so that he could produce either a smoke bomb or a flash bomb, but to be able to change the element of his explosives to something else entirely without the help of technology would be an amazing discovery.

Bomberman closed his eyes and set to work to do the mental configuration for such a feat, which at this point was all completely theoretical. The first thing to do, he decided, was to cut his connection to the Fire Stone in order to hopefully make for a smoother transition to the Water Stone. Bomberman did this by "snapping off" the warmly familiar link in his mind's eye, letting the fiery strands coil back into dormancy. He then reached out for the aura he knew the Water Stone was giving off. Within moments, he'd gotten a hold of the swirling azure energy, though it was as slippery as the element it embodied. An icy jolt suddenly surged through his body, and his eyes snapped open.

Lilith and Moira both looked concerned. "Bomberman...?" Moira asked. "Are you okay?"

"I think so." _That wasn't bad at all,_ Bomberman thought, amazed. _I guess all that random fainting during classes while I was trying to figure out the Fire Stone wasn't for nothing. _"Let's try this out, then," he said. With the ease bestowed upon him by his genes, he produced a bomb in his hand. But it wasn't his usual fare of dark, quasi metallic spheres. Instead, it more resembled a faceted crystal...or a chunk of ice.

Gasps of delight rose up from the three spectators. "That's so cool!" Moira squealed.

"Very nice going," Lilith agreed.

Bomberman blinked. "...well," he said, still unable to believe he'd actually done what he just did. "I wonder what this does?" He tossed it into the water.

_KA-BLAM!_

The water within the radius of the bomb blast immediately froze over into a large, shimmering patch of ice.

"Wow!" Pommy clapped his hands. "Bomberman's awesome, to do something like that!"

Bomberman stared stupidly at the newly formed ice floe. "Well, spin me six ways from Diamond City..."

Moira snorted. "Guess you didn't really need my help after all, huh?"

Lilith smiled. "It's good to know that you can make use of the Stones while you have them," she said. "At least they won't be dead weight to you." She turned. "Well, I still have some business to take care of, so I'll have to catch you all later."

"Wait!" Bomberman said. "How busy are you, or whatever?"

Lilith paused. "...why do you ask?"

Bomberman shot a quick glance at Moira. "I was...wondering if you could take her with you," he said. "She's been really helpful in surviving here, but there were way too many close calls. You said I'm in the sights of the BHB Army anyway, so in the end she'd probably be safer with you."

Moira looked slightly miffed, but said nothing.

Lilith tapped a thoughtful finger to her lips. "I suppose there'd be no harm in doing so," she said slowly. "I've only been doing quiet work, anyway—nothing like ambushes or direct confrontations."

"Moira can take care of herself pretty well," Bomberman continued, "so it's not like she'd get in your way or anything. I promise. She might even be able to help you out with whatever you're doing."

Lilith looked at Moira. "Well, does the ice princess have a problem with these arrangements?" she asked playfully.

Moira shook her head quickly. "No, ma'am."

Lilith grinned. "Just call me Lilith, Moira. I'd hope that I'm not old enough to warrant being called 'ma'am'."

"Yes, ma'am...Lilith."

The two of them locked gazes, then giggled a little.

Bomberman let out a relieved sigh. He'd enjoyed Moira's presence, and he was more than grateful to her for the many times she had helped him out of sticky situations. Unfortunately, she was also a liability that Bomberman was unwilling to risk having with him at this particular moment. It was true that at least she _did_ something useful, unlike the sentient marshmallow known as Pommy, but it was precisely for that reason that Bomberman had to let her go. Pommy required a lot more protection than Moira did, and Bomberman felt he had an obligation to help the helpless...no matter how annoyingly useless the said helpless was.

But even if Pommy had proved himself to be independent and useful, Bomberman would still have insisted on leaving Moira in someone else's care in the end. She reminded him too clearly of what he'd taken away from her, right in front of her eyes. Maybe someday, he'd be able to make it up to her, somehow. If such a thing were even possible.

"Bomberman?" came Lilith's voice. "We're going to be leaving now."

"Huh? Oh, right." Bomberman waved awkwardly. "I'll see you guys later. Be careful."

"You, too. It's getting nastier out there by the day, I'm telling you." Lilith turned to Moira. "Sorry for the possible indignity of what I'm going to ask you, but...you up for a piggyback ride?" She simpered apologetically. "It's the best way to cart someone around with me when I'm flying."

Instead of being offended, Moira actually looked excited. "I don't mind," she said, eyes shining. "I've never flown before! Well, not on a person, anyway."

Lilith laughed. "Brilliant. Hop on up, then." She bent down a bit to let Moira scramble onto her back.

Moira placed her arms around Lilith's neck, and clung tightly to her as Lilith straightened up. She looked back over her shoulder at Bomberman. "Thanks for everything, Bomberman," she said. "I hope we'll see each other again."

Bomberman nodded. "Take care of yourself," he responded. "And"—he forced himself to look straight at her—"I'm sorry, again. For...everything."

A pause.

Moira snorted. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

Bomberman blinked at her in shock. "What?"

Moira was smiling warmly at him, though her face was softened with sadness. "It's okay," she whispered. "I don't hate you for...for how things turned out. It's not your fault. How..." She swallowed. "How could it be...when you were just trying to p-protect me?"

Bomberman stared at her, not knowing how to respond. "Moira..."

"Also," Moira continued, "if you're worried about paying me back for how I've helped you—because you really _do_ owe me, mister—I'll think of something by the time you and I meet again, okay? No biggie." She smirked. "I'm going to be fine, and you're going to be fine, and everything else is going to be fine, so stop looking like an unfed goldfish. It's not a good look for you."

Bomberman finally found his sense of humor again. "All right, then, if that's what you want," he said, chuckling. "Keep safe—the both of you."

Moira nodded.

"The sentiment's returned," Lilith added. "Until then!" And she took off into the air, with no sign of being hampered by Moira's added weight.

Both Bomberman and Pommy watched Lilith go until she became little more than a faint speck over the aquatic horizon. "Myuuu!" Pommy hopped up and down. "Lilith's so nice, isn't she, Bomberman? To help out Moira like that?"

Bomberman snorted. "That's the understatement of the decade."

"And she can fly!" Pommy babbled on as he and Bomberman headed for their plane. "Pommy wonders how she can do that?"

"Because she's Supergirl" was Bomberman's curt reply as he got into the pilot's side.

There was a confused pause, punctuated by the amused sigh of ocean waves.

"...but Pommy thought Supergirl was blonde."

"She got a dye job."

"But if Lilith's Supergirl, where's her cape?"

"She sold it to a pawnshop and used the money to feed a hungry family for a month and a half."

"Wow! So Lilith _is_ really nice, isn't she?"

"Yes. You said so about a minute ago."

Another pause as Bomberman revved up the engines of the plane.

"...Bomberman?"

"What is it?"

"How do you know all that about Lilith?"

"I don't."

"But then why—"

"Pommy."

"What?"

"Please be quiet. My head hurts a little from all your questions."

"But Pommy just wants answers!"

"I gave you answers."

"You gave Pommy _lies!_"

"Same difference. Now just be quiet for a while, please? My head really does hurt."

Pommy grumbled to himself, sinking down into the passenger's seat as the plane took off from Aquanet. "Myuuu...Pommy will see that Bomberman doesn't lie to Pommy again! Pommy doesn't like being lied to, not at all...myu..."

B-O-M-B

It was during a general meeting with the rest of the knights on the Warship Noah that Rukifellth suddenly realized that his mental link to Behemos was gone. His eyes narrowed. "First Baelfael falls, and now Behemos," he muttered, his tone a mix of apprehension and surprise. "How could he show such power, a simple mortal?"

Zoniha's arrogant laughter rang loud and clear throughout the bridge of the Noah. "That's what you get for sending a couple of men! They can't do anything right!"

Molok glared at Zoniha. "Show them a little more respect," he chided her. "The two of them fought with pride and without fear."

"Molok has a point," Bulzeeb added.

Zoniha laughed again. "You're more forgiving than I ever will be, Bulzeeb!" She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Do you know that women like that in men?"

Bulzeeb pointedly turned away from her.

Zoniha pouted.

"No matter how strong you may be, Zoniha," Molok uttered, "because you have no manners as a fighter, I can never respect you."

"Pfft!" Zoniha waved him off. "Fighting like that is nice and all, but that doesn't do you jackshit if you lose. Victory, in this world, is life—you win or you die." She folded her arms and smirked. "Besides, if you can't protect your Elemental, do you really deserve to be called an Astral Knight?"

The ship shook with Molok's rage, nearly knocking most of the room's occupants off their feet. "How _dare_ you!" Molok snarled, curling his fists. "Take that back, else I—!"

"Stop it!" Ashtarth appeared between the two bickering adults in a swoosh of wind. "Both of you, cut it out! Even if two of us are gone, five of us are still left, which should be more than enough to take care of our little friend."

"Yes, two of us have struck out," Zhael's calm voice murmured. "That means you're up next, Ashy boy." She hummed girlishly and smiled. "I wonder if he'll make it all the way to me..."

"Be mindful, Zhael," Bulzeeb advised. "If I were you, I'd watch myself—overconfidence can be one's undoing."

Zhael raised an eyebrow at Bulzeeb. "Oh, and I suppose you speak from experience?"

Bulzeeb did a double-take.

Zhael grinned smugly. "Men like to talk big, but when poke comes to punch, they're down like swamp reeds under a steamroller."

"The bigger they are, the harder they cry!" Zoniha chimed in. Her pink lips turned up in a provocative smile as she cast an amused glance at a certain Astral Knight of the earth. "Isn't that right, my dear old Molok?"

Molok lost his temper again. "You—!"

"Stop it!" Ashtarth snapped again, and this time the winds that swirled around him physically pushed Zoniha and Molok further apart. "That's enough fighting from the both of you! I think you've forgotten that you're in the presence of our master." To Zoniha, he said, "Watch your words. I know you know better than this."

Zoniha rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Yes, well, dare I ask who this guy is that's making the men all jumpy?"

"According to Behemos, he goes by the name of Bomberman," Rukifellth answered. "Fitting for someone who blasts obstacles into oblivion."

"Well, that certainly sounds promising for us," Zoniha chirped cheerily. "A big name for such a little guy, if I may say so." She then noticed a disapproving frown on Ashtarth's face. "Ha! You shouldn't be getting so upset all the time, Ashtarth—it'll ruin your complexion!"

Ashtarth looked like he wanted to strangle her. "_Zoniha!_"

Rukifellth lost patience. "_Enough!_" he roared, startling all the knights to attention. "Hear my words: I don't care who does it or how, but I want this Bomberman dealt with _now!_ The time of resurrection is near. Stop him, or face my wrath! Is this understood?"

"Yes, master," the knights intoned. Rather than deal with their angered leader any longer, they quickly disappeared from the bridge of the Noah one by one.

Rukifellth smiled and closed his eyes. "I will reclaim my earthly body soon," he said quietly, strolling over to the captain's seat on the bridge and sitting down. "All these years, it has been locked away...but when I regain my true form, the universe will once again be shrouded in darkness!" He laughed as he leaned back in the seat. "And no one, not even Mihaele, can stop me then!"


	14. Horizon: Idyllic Interlude

"Is something the matter, Ashtarth? You've been looking a little under the weather...if I'm allowed to make such a comment considering how much you're usually _over_ it both literally and figuratively."

Ashtarth's eyes flew open from their contemplative rest upon hearing Zhael's voice. He shook his head. "I'm fine," he said, with a little less certainty than he would have liked.

The two Astral Knights loitered in the hallway just outside of the boisterous mess hall on the Warship Noah's sixth floor. Despite how much they stood out amongst the black-suited masses of BHB cannon fodder partaking in their scheduled meals, they remained unmolested by naive newbies, suspicious veterans, or anyone/anything in-between. If any a soul should notice them talking, he (and the male gender it was, for nothing with ovaries that walked these floors who wasn't either Zhael or Zoniha would have survived the libido of these man-creatures) wouldn't have been able to hear a single syllable over the raucous talk of restless soldiers and the sizzlings of deep-fried sustenance coming from the kitchen.

Zhael smirked and leaned back against the metal wall of the hallway. "You wouldn't happen to still be upset over the dreadful quality of food they serve here knowing that you could do so much better, would you?" she asked playfully.

Ashtarth returned a glance that was somewhere between exasperation and amusement. "I told you, I was only joking when I went on that tirade. I still don't consider it one of my better moments."

"Then what's gotten you looking so gloomy? You couldn't possibly be _that_ insulted by Zoniha's remark about your complexion. That's not like you at all. Although for good measure, I should add that I think your complexion looks just fine to me and that I think Zo's simply been eating too many bonbons again."

There was a decisive pause.

The _th-thud_ of an overturned table exploded the mess hall into a mushroom cloud of laughter, shouts, and bursts of obscenities that peppered the air like firecrackers.

Ashtarth turned, his long green braid swinging behind him as it slid off his shoulder. "Let's talk somewhere that's more...intimate."

Zhael blinked and blushed as she followed Ashtarth down the hall.

B-O-M-B

Ashtarth swiped his key card in the reader next to the brushed metal doors. With a trio of beeps from the reader, the doors slid open, revealing a room completely shrouded in darkness save for a control panel floating in the middle that was illuminated by a single white spotlight.

"You want to talk in the holodeck?" Zhael asked, perplexed.

"I figured the both of us could use a change of scenery," Ashtarth said, smiling as he made his way over to the control panels. "Besides, I've got it set so that people on the outside know that we Astral Knights are using this thing, so none of the BHB idiots in their right minds would bother us." He typed in a couple of commands on the keypad. "Any preference of yours?"

Zhael thought for a moment. "How about a sunny cafe by the sea?" she suggested. "With an outdoor terrace and white bricks and flowerboxes? And mountain scenery in the distance! And...um...black wire patio furniture, or something like that."

Ashtarth laughed as he made the necessary adjustments. "You certainly know how to think these things up, Zhae."

Zhael giggled.

_Beep-beep!_

_FWEEEEMMM!_

Within seconds, the inky darkness of the holodeck transformed into a scene both befitting Zhael's romantic request and completely putting it to shame. Line by glowing line, building by surreal building, the landscape melted into existence like a liquid puzzle. There was the requisite white brick cafe, squat and square and overlooking a rather cubic townscape of seaside homes from atop a high hill. To its east lay the vast azure deep of the sea; to its west, a breath-taking mountainscape stretched for miles, half-faded in mysterious fog.

Zhael and Ashtarth sat at one of a number of black wrought-iron tables on the cafe's outdoor terrace, an elegant umbrella stationed overhead to shade them from the warm but harsh rays of the sun. Instead of their Astral Knight armor, both of them were attired in casual wear: Zhael in a feminine yellow sundress and cork sandals and Ashtarth in an untucked white button-up shirt with a brown sweater vest, khakis, and sneakers. Around them, virtually faceless patrons and cafe workers flitted in and out, ghosts of a false but believable reality. It was a scene too perfect to be real...and yet it was more real than reality itself.

Zhael stretched and giggled again before leaning forward and resting her chin girlishly in her hands as she looked at Ashtarth. "So, Ashy," she began, "what is it that you'd like to tell me, hmm?"

Ashtarth cracked a smile that left his face as quickly as it came. "I'd been planning on talking to Baelfael about this before his...unfortunate departure," he said, resting an arm on the wicker armrest of his chair. "As it stands now, you're the only one I feel comfortable mentioning this to."

A pleased expression. "I'm flattered."

"All right, here goes." A gentle breeze ruffled his bangs as he began. "Does...anything seem off to you right now?"

This took Zhael by surprise. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"The BHB Army. Us. Master Rukifellth. This entire situation. Does anything about it strike you as odd?"

Zhael raised her delicate pink eyebrows. "Not at all," she answered, sounding confused. "This is how it's always been."

"Always?"

"Well...why not?"

Ashtarth tapped his fingers on the table, sounding out a muted percussive rhythm that seemed vaguely tribal in tone. "I know who we are," he began. "You and me...we're part of the Astral Knights, the elite battle force of Master Rukifellth's BHB Army. We fight for Rukifellth and his greater glory, and we protect the Elemental Stones he's given over to our care. I know this purpose in the deepest parts of myself, and it feels as natural to me as the wind.

"And yet...the 'naturalness' of it strikes me as being completely unnatural in the entire scheme of things." Ashtarth gazed off into the distance. "It's like this scene we're in: so perfect, so real, so comforting and logical...but all of that only contributes to its unbelievability. In the end, we really don't belong here."

"What are you trying to say?"Zhael demanded, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

"The thing that bothered me about my last exchange with Zoniha had nothing to do with her remarks about my appearance. Instead, it was something I said: _'Watch your words. I know you know better.'_" He turned out a questioning palm. "How did I know such a thing? In the past three or so years that I can remember being a part of the army, I never corresponded all that much with her and had no need to outside of official business. What did I know about her tendencies that I could make that assessment?"

Zhael made a face. "You're reading too much into it," she said. "You were just calling her on her crap, that's all. Things like that get said because...well...you want to guilt the other party into shaping up, or something. It's got nothing to do with whether you actually know that person or not."

"If that were the case, I wouldn't be so bothered by it. Heaven knows I've said such things a million times to a million people for precisely the reason you state." Ashtarth sighed. "But that time with Zoniha was different. Because I felt that I really did know—somewhere in my mind—that she _was_ better than the childish brat she was acting like at the last meeting. I know from working with her in the BHB Army that Zoniha is playful to a fault, but that last display was too far even for her...and for you, for that matter."

"But you yourself said that you don't talk with her much," Zhael pointed out, swiftly dodging Ashtarth's blurb about her role in Zoniha's antics. "So how would you know what her limits are?"

"That's precisely my point!" Ashtarth exclaimed, with such conviction that it caused Zhael to flinch back. "How _would_ I know...unless there's something about my knowledge of Zoniha that I'm somehow forgetting? And if there _is_ something I'm forgetting, what is it—and is there anything else I'm not remembering?" He waved off a uniformed waitress before continuing. "Zhael, there's something going on here that we don't know about, something bigger than all of us. We're being kept in the dark about something. I'm almost positive on that."

Zhael gaped at Ashtarth. "Y-you're not suggesting that Master Rukifellth is _lying_ to us?"

"I don't know whether it has anything to do with Rukifellth," Ashtarth admitted, tapping his fingers on the table again. "But if it does, I would have no qualms in suggesting that if Rukifellth could gain something from lying to any—or all—of us, he _would. _The man is powerful and clever, but he holds no sense of honor."

Zhael's lower lip trembled as she pouted. "You...you shouldn't say things like that about Master Rukifellth," she scolded, folding her arms childishly.

"Make no mistake; I respect him for his abilities and his accomplishments. But I don't pretend that he's anthing other than the tyrant that he is." Ashtarth leaned forward slightly. "And I'd advise you to do the same."

Quick as her element, Zhael's dainty hand flew across Ashtarth's face.

_KA-SMACK!_

Ashtarth nearly fell off his seat from the force. Half in shock, with his arms dangling comically over the sides of his chair and his legs askew as they tried to keep him upright, he dared to meet the furious gaze of Zhael.

"What was your point in dragging me down here, seriously?" she scowled, sharp sparks of electricity exploding in little pops all around her hair. "Did you just want to get all self-righteous with me to make yourself feel better or something?"

"Settle down." Ashtarth pulled together his sprawled limbs and re-adjusted himself to a more dignified sitting position, smoothing out the wrinkles in his pants as he did so. "I only wanted to check my suspicions, that's all, and you were the best person I could talk to about it." He rubbed his cheek as he tried to offer up a calming smile. "If someone as close to the master as you are insists that nothing's wrong, perhaps I'm merely having hallucinations."

Zhael's shoulders heaved with the breaths she was trying to take. "I think you spend way too much time meditating or whatever," she said tightly. "It's causing you to imagine things that aren't happening and could never happen."

"Maybe."

"And you yourself said that being an Astral Knight and serving Master Rukifellth is natural to us. Why should we question what feels natural? It means we're meant to do, doesn't it?"

Silence.

Muted conversation fell all around the two of them like light rain.

Zhael swallowed. She finally sat back down and placed her hands demurely in her lap. "I'm sorry for snapping at you like that," she apologized softly, staring down at her well-kept nails. "You came to me because you wanted to talk about something that was bothering you, and I yelled at you—and I even _hit_ you, for crying out loud. And I should've just listened and tried to help you." She looked genuinely contrite. "I'm sorry. I just get a little...irrational...when it comes to Master Rukifellth, that's all."

"I couldn't tell."

A double-take. "Hey! Are you making fun of me now?"

"Not at all." Pause. "Okay, yes, I am. Sorry."

Finally placated, Zhael leaned back in her chair and grinned. "You can get downright infuriating at times," she uttered, playing with a few loose strands of pink hair. "You know that, right?"

"The sentiment is, as always, returned with the honesty that only good friends can afford to inflict on each other." Ashtarth smirked. "Well, now, if that's all settled...would you care to order something so I know whether I should annoy our waitress now?"

"Hmm?" Zhael blinked. "Well, I guess I can stomach a thing or two." She laughed. "But _you're_ paying!"

"What? Oh, fine...I suppose I owe it to you..."

In a lost, dark, and cramped space suspended between the ceiling of the holodeck and the floor directly above, a hunched-over Lilith took off her headset and let out a controlled, thoughtful sigh, blowing away a cobweb or two. "The brainwashing..." she murmured, placing a gentle hand on the device she'd been using to bug the holodeck. "It's not as strong as I thought...or if it was, it's weakening now for some reason. There might be a chance now to save the remaining knights from Rukifellth's mind control. But how?" She slid into a reclining position as quietly as she could, twisting herself so that she could lie on her back. Zhael's voice issued from the headset, rattling off an impressive list of sugar-laden desserts. _I suppose there's no point in staying any longer_, Lilith thought. _I've found something I can use...now I just need to figure out how I can use it to fix this royal mess._ Her mind suddenly took a rather tangential turn. _I wonder how that Bomberman kid is doing?_


	15. Horizon: Creampuffs Shouldn't Drive

"That Bomberman kid" was currently asleep in his stolen plane, having set the controls on a smooth and easy autopilot. He snoozed peacefully in the reclined pilot's seat, his hands folded over his stomach and his head tilted to the side in tranquil reverie.

Pommy, on the other hand, was just waking up.

"Myuuu..." he yawned, stretching as much as a rotund thing like himself could stretch. "Are we at another planet yet? It doesn't look like it to Pommy." With all the grace of a football player in heels, Pommy scrambled up onto the dashboard to check for himself. "Hey, Pommy sees a planet!" he said excitedly. His ears drooped with sudden disappointment. "But...it's so far away!"

A soft sigh from the sleeping bomber brought his distinctly "not-conscious" state to Pommy's attention.

"Myu!" Pommy exclaimed. "What is Bomberman doing, dozing off like that? He'll get ticketed for sleeping at the helm!" He looked around nervously. "Pommy doesn't see any space police anywhere, but we still have to be careful! Pommy doesn't want to be in jail again." His dark eyes lit up. "Pommy knows! Pommy will just drive the plane for Bomberman until Bomberman wakes up! Pommy thinks Bomberman will appreciate that! Besides, this plane is going so slow...if we keep going like this, we'll never reach the planet before the BHB Army does more bad things!"

Pommy proceeded to hop over to the pilot's side. Sitting on Bomberman's arms, he studied the control panel and frowned. "Ohh...but Pommy has no idea what any of this does!"

A pause, dangerous in its brevity.

"Pommy supposes that Pommy will have to learn then, myu. If Bomberman can do it, then Pommy can too!" Then another thing occurred to the mimic. "But Pommy can't reach the pedal to make the plane go fast." He peered over the steering wheel. "Well...it looks like we're headed straight for the planet, anyway. Maybe if Pommy just pushes on the pedal..." And he trudged down below to test his theory.

_SKK-SK-SK-SKKKKT!_

_VRROOOOMMMM!_

"..."

_VRRRROOOOOMMMM—_

"..."

_VRRRRROOOOOOMMMMM—_

"..."

_VRRRRRROOOOOOOOMMMMM-__**CRASSSHHH!**_

B-O-M-B

"I'd prefer that you not mention my...musings...to Master Rukifellth the next time you see him, or to any of the other knights for that matter," Ashtarth said as he and Zhael exited the holodeck. Both had donned their Astral Knight armor again. "I'm sure you can imagine some of the more obvious reasons for this."

Zhael nodded. "It's between you and me," she said earnestly. "I'm flattered that you were able to trust me enough to talk to me about it—I'll respect your privacy." She hesitated only briefly before turning and wrapping her arms tightly around him.

Ashtarth blinked, surprised. "Er...thanks a lot," he said, returning the hug. "I knew I could count on you." He stepped back. "I'm going to return to Horizon now, so if for some reason you need to find me, you know where to look."

"Of course." Zhael waved. "Take care."

With one last friendly gesture, Ashtarth disappeared in his signature swirl of winds.

Zhael started to head off in the opposite direction...and was promptly met face-to-face with a smirking Zoniha. "Z-Zo?" she stammered.

"All right, what's going on?" Zoniha asked, crossing her arms. "I just saw you come out of the holodeck with Ashtarth, and you got all huggy with him before he left. What's the deal, hm?"

Zhael snickered. "It appears that he's been having some rather trippy hallucinations lately."

"Wh-_what_?" The flabbergasted expression on Zoniha's normally composed face was priceless. She held a disbelieving palm to her forehead. "Man! I knew Ash was into being spiritual and mystical and whatnot, but I thought he was against...you know...that sort of thing."

Zhael continued laughing as she and Zoniha headed for a nearby elevator. "I was only joking!" she insisted. "Well, mostly. Ashtarth did say he's been having some doubts about things lately. He thinks Master Rukifellth is lying to us or keeping something from us." Zhael pressed the "4" button as she walked into the elevator. The doors slid shut, and the car steadily descended. "Basically, I think it boils down to that Ashtarth is starting to believe that what we're doing is wrong. Either that or he's just beginning to wuss out on us. I'll confess that I'm not sure which one to believe."

Zoniha raised an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight—it's taken Ashtarth all this time to figure out that he's suddenly got a problem with what we're doing?"

"Yeah, I know. It's weird."

"You gonna snitch on him to the big kahuna?"

Zhael hummed a little. "I may...or I may not. In the end"—and at this a wicked smile came across her face—"it probably won't even matter. Even if I do decide to tell on him, Ashtarth will be dead before Master Rukifellth can do anything."

Now Zoniha looked amused. "You don't think he's going to survive the fight against Bomberman?"

_Ding! _The elevator stopped smoothly at its intended floor. The doors opened onto a carpeted hall—the quarters of the BHB Army elite. "Ashtarth's powers work best as an auxiliary force, especially with mine," Zhael explained haughtily. "Bomberman was able to defeat Baelfael and Behemos, whose powers are formidable on their own. Ashtarth isn't going to stand a chance against him."

Zoniha laughed as she pulled back her pale lavender hair into a temporary ponytail with a rubber band. "But Ashtarth's going to be fighting him on Horizon," she pointed out. "Unless this Bomberman can fly in addition to throwing around his little firecrackers, he's a goner if Ashtarth manages to nail him with a powerful enough cyclone." She threw Zhael a sly glance. "Or is this just wishful thinking on your part so that you can get your chance at the little bomber?"

Zhael simpered. "All right, all right, so you have me there, a little," she confessed. She stopped in front of a door with a metallic pink nameplate reading "Zhaeliara Tazuki." She took off one of her white gloves and pressed her bare hand to a black square directly beneath the nameplate. With a confirmation beep, the door slid pneumatically into the ground. The two entered Zhael's room, which lit up with fluorescent white light as soon as they crossed the threshold. "But you have to admit that I'm not completely talking out of my ass about Ashtarth's powers, right? After all, I've worked with them often enough."

"Point taken. Hey, you wouldn't happen to have any mints around here, would you? I'm in the mood for something...fresh."

Zhael sat down on her unmade futon. "Check the top drawer of that dresser over there. You might find a bag under all the makeup."

Zoniha gave Zhael a strange look before she went to search the aforementioned hiding place. "That's an odd place to stash candy."

Zhael shrugged. "I stuck them there temporarily while cleaning off my dresser, and so far it hasn't been a pain to get to them, so I just keep them there."

"Laziness is the bastard child of convenience." Zoniha rummaged around in the drawer. "Aha, here they are, the little buggers." She drew out a colorful bag of flavored mints. She snatched one out, popped it out of the plastic wrapper and into her mouth, then returned the remaining goods to their proper spot. "So," she began, shoving the drawer shut with a bump of her hip and tossing the wrapper into a small wastebasket, "why exactly does Mr. Windbag think that Rukifellth's hiding something from us?"

"Pfft! I don't know!" Zhael flopped onto her back, squirming a little as she adjusted to the comfort level of the bed. "He said something about being here feeling natural but unnatural at the same time, or something. He was getting all philosophical on me. You know he likes doing that."

"So...it's like the feeling that you should be 'here', but also the feeling that you _really_ should be elsewhere?"

Zhael suddenly sat up, staring suspiciously at Zoniha.

Zoniha blinked. "Wh-what? Don't look at me like that!" she protested. "I'm trying to clarify here, that's all! I'm curious as to why it's taken this long for Ashtarth to decide he's got a problem with what we're doing. It's not like he hasn't done his fair share of shady things, especially with that tribe or whatever on Horizon."

"I don't know," Zhael repeated. "I told him he was spending too much time meditating. Being alone isn't healthy, you know, because then you end up thinking too much about things and it drives you crazy." She let out a sigh. "Why isn't he just content with knowing that we're all doing what we're supposed to be doing? What does it matter what we were doing back then if right now we're supposed to be here serving Master Rukifellth?"

"You mean you're not in the least bit curious about what we were doing before the BHB Army?"

Zhael shot Zoniha another horrified look. "The BHB Army has always been around, and we've always been a part of it!" she insisted. "It always has been, and if we do what we're supposed to do, it always will be! This is what we've always been doing!"

"Huh, I guess I must be hallucinating too..." Zoniha sat down slowly on an ottoman of rose pink velvet, clicking the mint against the back of her teeth with her tongue. "Lately I've been getting this odd feeling that there's something missing..."

Zhael groaned. "Not you, too."

"Hey, hey, I'm not agreeing with Ashtarth or getting all paranoid like he is!" Zoniha defended herself. "In the whole scheme of things, I really don't care whether Rukifellth is lying to us or not, as long as I get to be around to kick some ass. I'm just saying that lately, I've been wondering about what I was doing before this whole BHB business, however long it's been since I ended up here."

"We've always been with the BHB Army..." Zhael murmured.

"If that's the case, we should be lording our awesomeness over hell of a lot more than these measly planets," Zoniha responded. She stood up and walked over to a bookshelf, stroking the spines of a few books with a slender finger. "But whatever. It's like you said—it doesn't really matter what we were doing back then, as long as we're doing what we're supposed to be doing in the here and now." She smirked. "Especially if it involves kicking ass."

Zhael nodded uneasily.

"Sorry about getting you so jumpy, Zhae," Zoniha said. "But I promise you that I'm not anything like Ashtarth right now." She laughed. "For one thing, I can most certainly hold my own in a fight."

"Ha! I'll drink to that."

"That's my spunky Zhael! I was wondering if she'd died or something." Zoniha snatched a well-worn notebook off the shelf and began flipping through it. "Now, what's this about writing a song about having a guy 'overcome' you...?"

"Huh? H-hey, wait, don't look in there! Give me that!"

"Ahahaha—you're so cute! I swear, you just crack my shit right up in the best way possible with the way you try to reel in your men!"

"Zoniha Sala, give me back my notebook or I'm going to Chain Lightning you into the afterworld!"

"That's if I don't smack you with a Rainbow Ray first."

"Or maybe I'll just go to Bulzeeb and tell him about that 'strange' dream you've been having about him for the past week or so..."

"Pfft, nothing ever perturbs _that_ man. He wouldn't bat an eyelash."

"So I guess you won't mind if I inform him of some of the...ahem...'stranger' details of the dreams?"

"...but all the same, he _really_ shouldn't know about that type of thing, so here's your notebook back. Yeesh."

Zhael waved the notebook triumphantly in the air. "I knew I could get you to think my way!" she said, snickering. She plopped down on the bed again and leafed through the pages to a particular spot. "Now, tell me what you think about this as a melody for the chorus..."

B-O-M-B

"I'm extremely sorry about this, sir," Bomberman apologized for the umpteenth time over the planet's visual-audio communication system. "I guess my foot must have rested on the accelerator pedal while I was sleeping..."

"Yeah, well, I'd better get a call from your peeps in the next week, you hear me?" thundered the angry pilot on the other end of the line. He pointed a finger at Bomberman. "This was a brand-new paint job, buddy! Do you get that? _BRAND. NEW._"

"Yes, sir, I completely understand, you mentioned that when you first called me and about twenty times since then." Bomberman tried to stifle a yawn. "I'm sure my insurance company will understand when they talk to you."

"They damn well better! I paid good money for this design, and let me tell you, it wasn't easy getting that good money without doing a few bad things!" The communication screen switched off. From the front window, the man's plane could be seen taking off into the distance with a furious burst of blue engine flames.

Bomberman turned to glare at Pommy. "What the heck was that about, marshmallow?" he snapped. "You're lucky we just side-swiped the guy at the speeds we were hitting!"

Pommy looked indignant. "Myu! Pommy just wanted to get to the planet faster so we could stop the BHB Army from doing more bad things!"

"You should've just woken me up and told me so!"

"But Pommy didn't want to disturb Bomberman!" Pommy stamped his foot on the handle of the passenger seat, upon which he was currently perched. "Bomberman should be grateful that Pommy was considerate of Bomberman's rest! Pommy knows that Bomberman works hard, so Pommy just wanted to help out and let Bomberman rest!"

Bomberman ran a hand over his face. "I suppose you have a point..." Not that he was any less grumpy for having been rudely awakened from his nap by a painful jolt of the vehicle and a nasty screech of metal scraping against metal. At least he'd been able to find the BHB Army's insurance information in the glove compartment of the plane. He might've felt genuinely bad about hitting that man's planet, even if it wasn't technically his fault and even if the guy was yelling at him for something as mundane as ruining a paint job, but he sure as well wasn't going to dig into _his_ bank account to pay for damage done by a plane that wasn't his, no maater how minimal the damage. After all, when the super-classified crazy missions were said and done, he really was just another poor college student. "Well, if you're so insistent on getting to the nearest planet in here, I guess I can repay your...polite consideration...of my naptime by doing just that."

"Yay!" Pommy hopped onto his seat. "Watch out, BHB Army! The superhero team of Pommy and Bomberman will come to wreack justice on your evil plans!"

Bomberman let out a tired sigh as he switched the plane engines on again.


	16. Horizon: Doesn't Taste Like Chicken

The two of them entered the atmosphere of the pale blue-green gas giant that Pommy had spotted earlier. Within a couple of minutes of casual cruising, Bomberman saw a small spot of land in the periphery of his vision, and he tilted the craft to descend accordingly. As Bomberman dropped altitude, he realized that this small spot of land was close to the size of a medium-sized island by his rough estimates. In addition, an impressive array of smaller islands surrounded the larger island, most of which were connected to each other by bridges or staircases. He manuevered the planet onto a safe spot on the largest island, then cut the engines and stepped out to inspect his new surroundings. "Ancient ruins, no immediate signs of life, surrounded by nothing but the elements..." he muttered. "If it weren't for the fact that we're floating in the sky, I'd say we were back on Aquanet again."

"Myuuu..." Pommy whined from inside the plane. "Pommy doesn't like heights! Pommy might fall and break a bone!"

Bomberman rolled his eyes. "We're nowhere near the edge, so you're not going to fall if you step out of the plane. Now come on—do you want me to leave you all by yourself in a big scary place like this?"

"Myu! D-don't leave Pommy behind!" Pommy quickly hopped out of the planet and ran to join Bomberman.

But as soon as they approached the first bridge, Pommy once again refused to budge, whining about falling down and breaking a bone or ten. Bomberman tried to comprehend the source of this fear, since it didn't really seem like Pommy had any bones in his body to break, but nonetheless, to placate the terrified puffball, Bomberman picked Pommy up and carried him in his arms as they crossed the surprisingly sturdy stone bridge. Even so, Pommy whimpered every once in a while until he and Bomberman were safely on the other side, at which point he cheerfully jumped from Bomberman's arms onto the ground. "Myu!" he chirped. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Bomberman would have rolled his eyes again if he hadn't caught sight of a feminine figure standing off to the side. Her back was to him, but he'd recognize that head of red hair (and those cute little brown shorts...not that he'd ever admit that) from ten miles away. "Lilith?"

Lilith turned around, startled. "Oh, Bomberman!" She smiled. "I was just thinking about you!"

Bomberman blinked. _**She**__...was thinking about __**me**_

"Did you just get here?" she asked.

As Bomberman managed to nod a reply, Pommy ran up to Lilith." Pommy's glad to see Lilith!" he greeted.

"And Lilith is certainly glad to see Pommy," Lilith responded, clearly amused.

"Pommy an Bomberman had to cross a really scary bridge over there," Pommy continued, "but it wasn't really that scary at all, not for Pommy!"

Bomberman snorted. "I wouldn't believe a word out of his mouth," he warned Lilith. "The only reason he wasn't scared was because I carried him over."

"Pommy was being considerate of Bomberman!" Pommy insisted, jumping up and down. "Pommy thought Bomberman might be scared to walk over the bridge, so Pommy pretended to be scared so that Bomberman wouldn't feel alone!"

"Thank you, once again, for your consideration of my feelings," Bomberman said dryly. "Now consider the fact that if you jump up and down enough times, you might cause this island to fall out from the sky."

"What? Myu!" Pommy clung to Lilth's left ankle, shivering. "Pommy doesn't want that to happen, not at all!"

Bomberman snickered. He suddenly noticed something very off about Lilith's presence. "Hey...where's Moira?" he asked, concerned. "She was supposed to be with you, wasn't she? Did something happen to her?"

Lilith shook her head. "She's fine. She just insisted after a while on being allowed to find her own way back home, saying something about not wanting to burden me any longer than she needed to."

"Find her way back? Is she from this stellar system?"

"Apparently. I offered to take her back myself, but she said that all she needed was some money to take a space bus back, so I counted out change and saw her off at the nearest station." Lilith snorted. "I'm surprised the transit system is still managing to keep in service here. The black hole must've cut off so many of its routes."

"No kidding." _So that's what Moira meant when she talked about the next time we'd meet again,_ Bomberman realized. _She knew I was going to have to visit her planet eventually to disable the Gravity Generator on it._ He simpered. _I'm a little afraid to find out how I'm going to have to "pay her back"..._

"So what's your plan of attack right now, if you've got one?" Lilith asked.

Bomberman shrugged. "I'm just trying to figure out where the Gravity Generator could be on here," he said, stretching his arms back and yawning. Dang, was he tired. He hadn't gotten a decent amount of sleep since he first got caught in the black hole. "You wouldn't happen to know where it might be, would you?"

Silence.

Bomberman suddenly realized that Lilith was giving him a stunned look. "L-Lilith?"

"You..." Lilith began. She attempted to imitate Bomberman's stretching movements from earlier, only to have her arms flop uselessly to her sides halfway through. "Arms aren't supposed to go that far back!"

"What? Oh!" Bomberman laughed sheepishly. "No, they're not. I'm just ridiculously flexible, that's all. Call it a mixture of freakish genes and childhood training."

"You don't say." Lilith's eyes lit up. "Hey, can you fold yourself into a pretzel? I've heard it can be done, but I've never actually seen it before."

Bomberman turned red. "W-well...I guess I could if I tried, but..."

Lilith giggled. "Never mind, I'll bug you about it later. We've got more important things to worry about. To answer your question from earlier, no, I don't know where the generator is. I was busy trying to figure out where the Astral Knight of this planet is hiding out. I've been looking for the settlement of the tribe of Procne."

"The tribe of Procne?"

"They're natives here, an isolated and tight-knit community. I thought they might be a good place to start asking questions." Lilith pointed up. "I was going to head up there and check things out. Wanna come with?"

_Hell yes!_ "Sure, why not? I don't really know where I'm going, myself."

Even the addition of Lilith to the group wasn't enough to ease Pommy's fears about heights, and in fact it seemed her presence mysteriously intensified those fears. Bomberman was ready to toss Pommy off the edge and be done with it by this point, so Lilith volunteered to carry Pommy herself whenever they reached a bridge or staircase. This led to Bomberman feeling half-annoyed with Pommy for being so irritatingly meek and half-jealous of Pommy for being in Lilith's arms. _I swear, cute critters get __**all**__ the girls..._

"Myuuu!" Pommy looked up at Lilith admiringly as they passed through a particularly long section of land lined on both sides with tall stone columns. "Pommy's amazed that Lilith's so good with heights!"

"Well, not to brag or anything, but it's a little hard _not_ to be if you can fly," Lilith responded.

"That reminds Pommy!" Pommy babbled. "Pommy wants to know how Lilith can fly! Bomberman said that it was because Lilith was Supergirl, but"—he shot a glare at Bomberman—"Pommy knew Bomberman was just lying!"

Lilith blinked curiously in Bomberman's direction.

Bomberman turned away in utter embarrassment, making a mental note to fry Pommy later three times over.

Lilith shook her head and let out a laugh. "Bomberman wasn't lying. I _am_ Supergirl."

"Wh-what?" Pommy stared at Lilith in awe. "So...so Bomberman was telling the truth all along?"

"Yep, I'm Supergirl, all right," Lilith continued without a single trace of sarcasm. "That's why I'm here in this black hole—to be my Supergirly self and save this place from the BHB Army."

Pommy was speechless. "Wow! Lilith's even cooler than Pommy thought!"

Bomberman, too, was amazed at how infinitely cooler Lilith had gotten within the span of less than ten minutes...though it was for a far different reason than Pommy.

Lilith laughed once again and patted Pommy on the head. "I'm honored that you think so."

"Don't worry!" Pommy grinned. "Pommy will keep Lilith's secret superhero identity safe!"

Lilith started to reply, but she suddenly stopped in her tracks, pursing her lips. Her body was still; her eyes weren't.

Bomberman noticed the pensive expression. "Lilith...?"

"Do you get the feeling we're being watched?" she asked.

Bomberman and Lilith looked up at the same time.

Perched atop the columns and hovering all around was a small flock of grotesque harpies, with stringy blue hair, monstrous talons, and wings that more resembled oversized claws. Two of them let out an ear-clawing screech. Accompanying them was a slightly larger flock of hawks with glowing red eyes.

"Heh." Lilith set Pommy down, who quickly scurried to hide behind the remnants of a broken column. "That's one hell of a welcome party, let me tell you."

Bomberman readied a bomb in his hand. "Stay behind me, Lilith," he said. "I'll handle this."

"What? And let you have all the fun? Not likely!" Lilith reached for the holster strapped to her right thigh, drawing out a compact laser pistol and clicking it into activity.

Not even three seconds later, a couple of hawks dove down upon them.

Bomberman prepared to launch his first attack. But four bright white laser shots rang out from behind him, nailing their victims perfectly in the middle of their heads. He turned around in amazement to see a smirking Lilith. "No need to worry about me," she said cheerfully, stepping backwards to fire off another round at the remaining hawks. "Trust me, I've handled more than my share of freakshows."

Before Bomberman could figure out whether he should feel disheartened that he didn't need to protect her or impressed at her abilities, a piercing caterwaul drew his attention. He turned just in time to see the half-rotted face of a harpy swooping towards him, its fanged mouth open and ready to bite his head off—

_BOOM!_

A fire bomb exploded right at its throat. It let out a strangled cry as it sailed past Bomberman's shoulder, crash-landing and skidding comically across the pale brick ground before crumpling into a bloody, feathery pile. With its final breath, its sister harpies screamed and descended into the fray.

Bomberman quickly checked that his remote was on manual mode, then charged a superbomb and tossed it as high as he could get it before detonating it.

_KA-BOOM!_

At least a third of the harpies were blown to pieces, the smoking scraps of their bodies raining to the ground and into the sky below. A still-twitching claw landed somewhere by Lilith's boot as she sidestepped the death dive of a monster hawk. "Eat plasma and chew before you swallow, spawn of Frithazar!" she yelled, leaping—no, _flying_—into the air. She fired off at least ten shots in a circle in mid-flight, scattering the airborne monstrosities.

Meanwhile, Bomberman was holding his own on the ground. He'd taken care of two hawks, but now he was dealing with two harpies glaring at him from either side of his person, accompanied by even more hawks. The harpies steadily closed in, their yellow fangs gleaming with saliva. They stretched out their claw-wings in anticipation of a final attack...and Bomberman bolted.

The harpies screeched and wailed in their pursuit.

Bomberman left a superbomb behind him as he ran and detonated it.

_KA-BLAM!_

One harpy was knocked clear over the edge of the platform. The other slammed into a crumbling pillar and broke it to pieces. _CRR-RRRRMBL-__**CRASSSH!**_The hawks, however, continued to tail him.

Still on the run, Bomberman decided to test out a theory that he'd been thinking about ever since witnessing Moira's plan for decimating the control pylons of Aquanet's Gravity Generator. He quickly switched his connection from the Fire Stone to the Water Stone, and tossed a regular ice bomb behind him.

_BLAM!_

The hawks were caught in the blast of tiny ice needles and frosty flames. They dropped from the air, twitching and half-frozen. Bomberman connected to the Fire Stone again, turned around, and dropkicked a bomb at the fallen birds, successfully incinerating them.

_KA-BOOM!_

With that done, Bomberman turned his sights skywards, to Lilith's battle. Judging from the number of harpy and hawk corpses littering the ground, as well as her general form as she continued to fend off the creatures, she appeared to be holding together rather well. He suddenly noticed a harpy just above Lilith's level, its wings beating furiously until they created what appeared to be a miniature tornado. "Lilith, above you!" he called.

"What?" Lilith turned—

_FWOOOSH!_

Lilith was caught head-on in the tornado's swirling winds. She was tossed from the sky, landing hard on her side. Her pistol clattered to the ground about five feet from her.

Bomberman ran over. "Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling beside her.

"Yeah, just a little...ugh...dizzy," Lilith groaned, shaking her head. With a trembling hand, she reached at her waist for a second pistol. She flipped it on, aimed up at the harpy, and fired.

_SPANG-SPANG-SPANG!_

Each shot missed by a mile.

The harpy cackled.

"Ahh, crap," Lilith muttered, holding her head. "I can't even aim straight now."

Bomberman caught her as she leaned forward, helping her settle into a comfortable sitting position. "Just stay put for a bit, all right?" he said. "I'll deal with the last one."

Lilith nodded. "I'll provide back-up as soon as I can."

Bomberman glared up at the creature that had dared to harm the lovely Lilith. "Hey, guano-for-brains!" he shouted. "I hope you don't mind rotisserie, because we're having you for dinner tonight!" He hurled a superbomb at it, but the harpy merely floated up and away from the explosion. It sent another tornado in Bomberman's direction. He rolled to the side to dodge it, then heaved more explosives, to no avail—the harpy was simply too high. He was about to settle for simply distracting the harpy when he caught sight of two pillars across from him. They were weathered and chipped, but otherwise more intact than most of the others around him.

A moment of thought.

The harpy unleashed another tornado.

Bomberman ran for the pillars.

_FWOOOSSSH!_

The tornado sailed over Bomberman's head and into the pillar behind him. _CRASSSH!_

As soon as he was able to, Bomberman made a leap for the pillars he'd spotted. In rapidfire fashion, he bounced deftly between them, rebounding and rebounding until he was high enough to grab onto the top edge of one of the pillars. With a grunt, he hoisted himself up, then tossed an ice superbomb at the harpy, who was _just_ realizing that Bomberman had snuck up behind it.

_BLAAMM!_

The harpy squawked in dismay, covered in frost and ice, but nonetheless remained airborne.

"Yeesh, it's still flying after that?" Bomberman sighed. "Looks like we might have to do things the suicidal way."

The harpy flapped its wings to create another wind attack, but Bomberman cut it off with a fire bomb. _KA-BLAM!_ As it lost altitude trying to recover from the blast, Bomberman ran across the top of the pillar, jumped, and just barely—_just barely—_caught a hold of one of the harpy's wings.

The harpy screeched at him, sending its spittle everywhere. Bomberman tried to ignore it and instead concentrated on taking it down. He grunted as he swung a foot up to kick it in the face. _WHAM! _He swung his other foot into its chest._ WH-WHAM!_ He was about to deliver a third kick when two laser shots went right through its forehead.

_SP-SPANG!_

As the harpy plummeted to the ground, Bomberman pushed off its body, flipped, and tumbled along for a few feet when he hit the ground. _Th-thmp! _The bleeding corpse of the harpy thudded in front of him three seconds later, splattering everywhere with splashes of dark purple blood.

"You okay there, flying squirrel?" came Lilith's amused question.

Bomberman simpered as he got to his feet. "I can move, at least," he said, brushing dirt off himself. "What about you? Oh, well, I guess that's a stupid question to ask seeing as you managed to nail those shots right on the money. You've got amazing aim." He laughed. "I'm hopeless with things like that, sad to say."

Lilith giggled as she skipped over to retrieve the pistol she dropped earlier. "Well, I imagine that tossing around explosives like you do can cause you to be just a little lazy in how you aim at things. No offense."

Bomberman shook his head, grinning. "No offense taken. It's totally and completely true." He narrowed his eyes. "Hey, what's that over there?"

Hiding behind one of the farther pillars was a young teenage boy. He was slightly chubby, with a heart-shaped face hidden behind a fringe of ink black hair. Before Bomberman could ask him about his purpose, though, he turned and dove off the platform.

"Hey, wait!" Lilith called. She and Bomberman ran over to where the boy had been and peered over the edge. "Where'd he go?" she asked, scrunching her brow together with concern.

Bomberman shrugged, though he wondered about the boy's apparent suicide jump. He caught a glimpse of something dark against the stark white clouds somewhere to his left, and he squinted. "I think that's him," he said. He blinked. "Are those _wings?_"

Lilith also squinted. "Looks like it. I wonder what he wanted?"

Pommy waddled up to the two of them. "Are Bomberman and Lilith done with the mean birds?" he asked fearfully. "Pommy doesn't like being around them."

Bomberman glanced behind him at the piles of dead monsters all over the place. "They don't seem inclined to want to peck our eyes out anytime soon. But let's get moving in case they do."


	17. Horizon: Bye Bye Beautiful

The three of them climbed a tall staircase to continue their walk. It was mostly quiet for a while, which was a nice reprieve after their run-in with the harpies and the hawks. But Bomberman wished he had the courage to talk to Lilith about something, _anything_, or to at least attempt to continue a conversation with her. An initial question about where she'd picked up her sharpshooting skills resulted only in a vague yet final answer of "on the fly." Bomberman didn't want to end up pestering her, so he mostly kept his mouth shut after that. He held up the hope that maybe she'd ask a couple of her own questions of him, but that didn't happen. It seemed more that she didn't feel like talking rather than she was pointedly ignoring him, but Bomberman couldn't help but feel as though Lilith were conveying some message about what she _really_ thought of him simply based on the fact she wasn't attempting to make conversation. _She must think I'm such a loser_, he lamented to himself. _She must think I'm boring and dull and incapable of holding a coherent conversation and—_

"Hey, Bomberman," Lilith said, "I think we might be getting somewhere."

Some distance above them, after a few more bridges and staircases, was a large gate that was etched with pictographs. It didn't seem to actually lead anywhere, oddly enough—it was simply one huge, half-wooden half-stone gate perched on the edge of the platform. After a couple more minutes of huffing up the last set of stairs, Bomberman, Lilith, and Pommy caught their breaths right in front of the gate, which was even more impressive up close. Embedded into the ground like a welcome may was a square slab of marble engraved with a detailed design, similar to that of tapestry.

Lilith stared intently at the gate. "Those doors..." she said. "They've got magick emanating from it, or something like it anyway."

Bomberman shrugged helplessly. "I'm useless with that sort of thing," he admitted. "I'll leave this to you."

Lilith nodded. She approached the gate, centering herself upon the marble slab. With a focused look, she reached out a hand.

"_Mmm—I wouldn't touch that if I were you, missy!"_

"Aaah!" Startled by the disembodied voice, Lilith stumbled back. She looked around, immediately on her guard. "Hey...you guys heard that, right?" she asked Bomberman and Pommy, who both nodded warily.

The voice, which sounded mostly male, laughed heartily. _"Ah, that I were but a figment of your imagination,_" it sighed. _"Because I'm imagining that you and I could...ahem...use our imaginations in quite interesting ways."_

The marble tile below Lilith's feet began to glow white, and she quickly stepped off it. In alternating flashes of green and white, a figure emerged liquidly from the stone. He was large and aqua-skinned, and vaguely gaseous in form, especially where his lower half was concerned. What little there was of his black hair was pulled into a topknot, and his equally sparse mustache somehow trailed past his shoulders. He wore an impressive array of ornamentation in both gold and silver, including multiple piercings on his pointed ears (and some on his face, Bomberman noted with some amazement), necklaces, armbands, and rings. He also sported a crinkled-looking red vest. His eyes were dark like night, and vertically narrow. Bomberman's mental impression of the thing was that of an overly-decorated hot-air balloon.

Pommy was astounded. "Is that...a _genie?_"

Lilith snatched up her pistol from her thigh holster and aimed.

"Wait!" Pommy insisted. "Pommy wants to make a wish! Don't kill the genie yet!"

"_Yet?_" Bomberman asked, raising an eyebrow.

The genie laughed. "No need to get trigger-happy, you pretty young thing," he chided. "I'm just humble old Jova, the guardian here to the gate to Philomel."

"Philomel..." Lilith lowered her pistol. "This wouldn't happen to be the settlement of the tribe of Procne, would it?"

Jova clapped. "Why, yes, it would be!" he said. "You're certainly observant."

"Yay!" Pommy cheered. "We found the tribe of...we found the people Lilith was talking about! Let's go in!"

"_Not so fast, little dumpling!"_ Jova boomed, sending Pommy scampering for cover behind Bomberman. "Philomel is the sacred, protected home of the tribe of Procne—I can't let outsiders in!"

Bomberman stared. "Not _again?_" he exclaimed.

"Unless"—and Jova held up a finger—"you can answer a couple of riddles for me."

Bomberman and Lilith looked at each other. "What happens if we get an answer wrong?" Lilith asked.

Jova shrugged, his bracelets jangling. "Nothing," he said. "Or something. It depends if I feel like you're worth smiting today."

_Well, __**that's**__ reassuring to know,_ Bomberman thought sardonically.

"What if we get something right?" Pommy asked. "Do we get to make a wish?"

Jova laughed. "What do I look like, your fairy godmother? Homie don't play like that, you know!"

Pommy pouted. "But..."

Bomberman interrupted. "How many chances do we get to answer each riddle?"

"Mmm...three, I guess. Yes, three sounds like a good number!" Jova grinned.

"And how many riddles do we have to answer?"

"As many as you can until I get bored."

Bomberman groaned. "A concrete number, please?"

"Oh, fine, fine—I guess three should be enough for that, too." Jova crossed his arms smugly. "Most people don't get past the first one, anyway!"

Again, Bomberman and Lilith exchanged uneasy looks. "His capriciousness bugs me," Lilith whispered. "But I don't think we have much of a choice if we want to get anywhere."

Bomberman nodded, then turned to Jova. "We'll do it," he said. "What's the first riddle?"

Jova cleared his throat theatrically. "Wait a moment, I need to recite the official stuff first. Procedure and all that." He puffed his chest out, clasped his hands together in a quasi-divine manner, and assumed a stern countenance. "_Travelers,"_ he began, _"here lies the way to Philomel, sacred grounds of the tribe of Procne. Foreign feet are not welcome here, not anything what brings destruction and fear. Yet, if these three riddles answered right, I'll put up no fists to fight. Walk away and let me rest...or risk thy life and accept my test."_

"We accept," Bomberman said.

Jova nodded. "_Then this I ask of thee:_

"_What can move before the face of the sun, yet leave no shadow?"_

Bomberman, Lilith, and Pommy huddled together some distance away to discuss. "What can move before the face of the sun, yet leave no shadow?" Bomberman repeated. "Any ideas?"

"Paper?" Pommy suggested.

Bomberman shook his head. "Doesn't work. That would still leave a shadow."

"Glass?" Pommy tried again.

"That won't work, either," Lilith said. "Even the clearest of glasses leaves a shadow. It'd have to be something...invisible."

Another pause as a soft breeze whistled by.

Bomberman narrowed his eyes. "What can move before the face of the sun and leave no shadow..." he said. "Air...air moves...and it definitely doesn't leave any shadow...and moving air is wind!" he concluded. "Wind! That has to be the answer!"

Jova smirked. "Smartly said, my pale friend!" He paused. "Er, I mean..._thou hast answered correctly. Two are left to decipher._"

Bomberman raised an eyebrow. "Not that I intend to rain on your parade or anything, but do you really have to use that old-school type of language?"

"Not really. I just find it fun."

Bomberman resisted the urge to fling a superbomb at him.

"Anyway." Jova cleared his throat. "_This I ask of thee:_

"_I am up, I am down. I am all around, yet never can I be found. Who am I?"_

Pommy looked disconcerted. "That doesn't make any sense to Pommy!" he complained. "How can something be all around us and we can't find it?"

"You have to think non-literally," Lilith said, laughing and petting Pommy on the head. "Or, at least, you have to be able to look at things a different way." She looked at Bomberman. "What do you think?"

Bomberman crossed his arms and tapped his foot. "All around, yet never can be found...is the riddle talking literally or figuratively?"

"Well, if it were talking literally, I'd imagine that the answer would be—" Lilith stopped in mid-sentence. "No way..."

Bomberman glanced oddly at her. "What are you—" Another pause. "It can't be..."

"The same answer as the first?" Lilith raised her eyebrows suspiciously.

"But it makes perfect sense," Bomberman said. "Right?"

"Yeah, but..." Lilith frowned. "There has to be another answer. That's too easy."

Bomberman mulled this over. "We'll go with it as our first answer," he said. "Jova said we had three chances to get the riddle right, so if this isn't the right answer, we'll think of something else." He turned to Jova. "The answer to the second riddle is 'wind'!"

"_Thou hast answered correctly. One is left to decipher."_ Jova gave a thumbs-up. "Two for two, ghost boy!"

Bomberman stared. _Who __**is**__ this guy? _he thought, completely bewildered.

"_This I ask of thee:_

"_Voiceless it cries, wingless it flutters; toothless bites and mouthless mutters. What is it?" _

"Oh! Myu! Myu! Pommy knows this one!" Pommy beamed proudly. "It's 'wind'!"

Bomberman, Lilith, and Jova all stared at Pommy. "How...how did you figure that out so quickly?" Jova asked.

"You saw the pattern, right?" Lilith said.

"Not that it was much of one," Bomberman muttered.

Pommy looked confused. "Myu? It was in a bedtime story someone read to Pommy before."

There was a rather uncomfortable silence.

Jova laughed uncertainly. "Well, um..." he stammered. "_Thou hast correctly passed my challenge. As promised, I put up no fists to fight. Thou art welcome in Philomel._" He grinned. "You've got 'em all correct, my friends! I'll move aside so you can all get at the gate." And he floated aside.

"Yay! We won, we won!" Pommy suddenly looked disappointed. "But...you really won't give us any wishes?"

Bomberman rolled his eyes. "Let's just go already."

Lilith approached the massive doors and reached out to push them open. As soon as her hands made contact with the stone, however, the doors gave off a blinding bright light.

_SHWEEEM! Z-Z-ZAP!_

"Aaaugh!" Lilith was sent flying back by magickal recoil. She shook out her hands from the pain and glared at Jova. "There's still a barrier on the door!"

Jova roared with laughter and snapped his fingers. "Oh, right, forgot to tell ya! You have to answer one more riddle if you want me to actually _open_ the doors. They're sealed with ancient hocus pocus and all that."

Bomberman's mouth dropped open. _"What?"_

"Oh, come on, I promise this one's even easier than the first three." Jova cleared his throat again, very loudly. "_This I ask of thee: Why is a raven like a writing desk?" _

Again Bomberman had no capacity for speaking complex sentences. "Why is a _what_ like a _what?"_ he repeated, quickly feeling the last of his sanity leak out his ears.

There was a sudden swish of wings. "That's enough, Jova. They're under my protection. You'll let them in or face the consequences."

All heads turned.

It was the boy Bomberman and Lilith had seen earlier. His black-speckled white wings retracted into his back with a white glow as he landed on the ground. He had a sleeveless tunic of a soft-looking violet fabric with ornate embroidery along its hem, and black pants with similar designs along the edges. He was barefoot. A gold star on a long thin chain dangled from his left earlobe.

"Oh, it's you, Kalnithi," Jova said cheerily. "Welcome back! Now what's this about letting these guys in without having them answer my artfully crafted riddle?"

Kalnithi raised his head head slightly. "In my authority as the successor to the Sky Throne, these people are under my protection," he said solemnly. "They may prove to be a long-awaited chance at helping Procne regain her senses. I'm sure you're well aware of the problems in Philomel at this point."

"Oho! Is that so?" Jova looked impressed. He raised an eyebrow at Bomberman and his companions. "Well, if His Skyness thinks you're good to go, then I guess you are! Sorry about the whole riddle thing. Until we meet again!" And Jova disappeared with an audible "pop."

_If genies could die, I'd murder that one right now,_ Bomberman thought, gritting his teeth.

"Sorry for Jova's behavior," Kalnithi apologized. "He's been a little strange lately."

"What an understatement," Bomberman muttered. In a louder voice, he said, "I'm sorry, but...I don't know who you are."

Kalnithi smiled. "It's all right. I wouldn't expect you to know me." He bowed slightly. "My name's Kalnithi. I'm the Sky Prince of the tribe of Procne. But you don't have to use my title—that's just for your information only."

"I'm Bomberman," Bomberman said, "and these two are Lilith and Pommy."

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you." Kalnithi walked up to the door. "Now, to get this thing open..." He clapped his hands together.

The doors glowed green again, but this time remained as such. Kalnithi began to trace a pattern into the magickal aura as though it were a gel. When he finished, the doors flashed white, and then vanished, revealing a long tunnel lit with torches of pale green flames.

Bomberman, Lilith, and Pommy all stared. "Myu?" Pommy scratched his head with his ear. "Pommy didn't see any of that before!"

"Philomel is spelled against people seeing it from the outside," Kalnithi explained as he led them down the tunnel. "It's an old protection from when our tribe was still at war with other tribes."

"Then should I ask why you're letting outsiders like us into Philomel?" Bomberman said.

Kalnithi turned to face them and sighed. "I don't know the whole story, so this may sound even stranger to you than it would already. But something's wrong with our guardian, Procne. Out of nowhere, she began to kidnap the most powerful shamans in our tribe. No one has any clue where the shamans are now, or why Procne is doing what she's doing. Not even my mother backed by her remaining shamans was able to subdue Procne or find out what's going on."

"So...you want _us_ to try and fix things here?" Lilith said, confused. "Even though we're not shamans or from your tribe?"

"I watched you two kill those monsters earlier," Kalnithi explained. "Your way of fighting is something I've never seen before, but both of you seem formidable. Maybe all it'll take to restore order here is something new." He bowed deeper than before. "I know neither of you have personal stakes in the fate of Philomel, and I understand completely if you want to turn your backs on me now. But my mother is the Sky Queen, and if you choose to help us, I know she'll be able to pay you quite well for your services."

Bomberman nodded, not seeing much point in turning the boy down. "It's fine. Just take us to your mother."

They stepped out into a wide and nearly empty quadrangle, with a number of pathways radiating out from the center in-between buildings. Only a couple of people—some of whom sported wings as Kalnithi once had—hurried to and fro, remaining in the shadows as much as possible. Though the sun shone down warmly on the pale brick, desolation haunted even the brightest of streets. Colorful banners outside of shops were faded, torn, and askew. Some of the buildings were destroyed, lying in great chunks.

"Myu, there's not many people here," Pommy observed, looking around.

"They're afraid of Procne," Kalnithi explained. "Her flights over Philomel can't be predicted even with the best divination that we have. So people stay inside as much as possible, and if they go out, they hurry or they stay in the shade." He sighed. "I lost one of my best friends to Procne. I hope she's all right..."

"Kalnithi!" A stately woman advanced upon the group. She shared the same obsidian shade of hair as Kalnithi, but her hair flowed in curls down her back, and she was far paler than the tan Kalnithi. She wore a gown of light fabric in a dark blue shade, with a golden girdle at her waist and a golden winged circlet on her head. She carried a staff of ivory topped with a figure of a bird's head, which she shook in Kalnithi's direction. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "Why are outsiders inside these walls?"

"Mother, I can explain—" Kalnithi started.

"I apologize for my son's foolishness," the woman said curtly. "You, unfortunately, are not welcome here. I must ask you to leave now."

"Mother!" Kalnithi shouted. "They can help us! They can help us against Procne!"

The woman—presumably the Sky Queen—threw her son a withering look. "Not even our best shamans or myself have been able to tame our corrupted guardian. Why should I believe that these outsiders, whom I know nothing about, stand even a feather's chance against Procne?"

"They defeated the swarm of monsters around the southern pass, every single one of them!" Kalnithi said, clenching his fists. "And the woman can fly!"

The Sky Queen raised a questioning eyebrow. "Is this true, what my son says?"

Bomberman and Lilith both nodded.

The Sky Queen paced around Bomberman and Lilith, inspecting them closely. "Both of you appear to be young, and I know not where you come from," she said. "Not many come here that aren't from somewhere else on this world; neither of you seem to be of this world. There is some sort of power emanating from the both of you as well, though they feel different to me." She met their eyes. "I am Draegaria, the Sky Queen of the tribe of Procne. What is your purpose here?"

Bomberman quickly introduced himself, Lilith, and Pommy. "We're looking for two things," he said. "One of them is a machine called a Gravity Generator. Do you know where it might've been built?"

Draegaria frowned. "I've never heard of such a thing," she said, "and if it had been built in Philomel, I should have known about it. What is the other thing you seek?"

"There's a person called an Astral Knight who should be guarding a powerful elemental stone here," Lilith said. "Do you know of him or where we could find him?"

Before the Sky Queen could give an answer, a horrifying screech split the skies, one that rattled Bomberman's heart inside his chest.

"No!" Kalnithi gasped. "It's Procne!"

A dark, looming shadow fell over the quad. Bomberman looked up just in time to see a giant bird and dragon hybrid soar overhead. Its body was avian in form, with shimmery green feathers, and similar to a swan's; its tail and wings were draconic, sporting hard brown scales. Its black beak opened up to reveal two rows of serrated teeth. A pair of smaller wings also flapped on either side of its head, covered more in feathers than in scales.

Draegaria growled as she pulled back her draping sleeves. "Well, outsiders," she said, "Procne has decided to pay us a visit today. I daresay this is a good time to prove yourselves."

No sooner had Draegaria spoken than Procne, who had circled above them at least once, suddenly swooped down into the quad.

_SWOOOSSH!_

Bomberman and company scrambled for cover, diving to the ground. Procne let out an angry squawk as she ascended again. She craned her long neck behind her, glaring at them with predatory violet eyes.

Draegaria's black wings sprouted from her back as she turned to Lilith. "My son claimed you can fly, though you have no wings," she said. "Are you willing to join me in aerial battle?"

Lilith smiled. "I'd be glad to."

"I'll go with you, too," Kalnithi offered.

"No, I won't risk having you in her sights. You will stay here." Draegaria glanced at Bomberman. "And what are _your_ contributions, young man?"

"I'm a bomber," Bomberman answered. "I create explosives from my chi."

Draegaria looked skeptical and surprised. "I've never heard of such a being before," she muttered, speaking quickly. "No matter. You are landbound, so your friend and I will attempt to take down Procne from the air. Once we get her close to the ground, you will do whatever it is that you do in order to weaken Procne." She looked down at Pommy. "Is this one your familiar, or simply a pet?"

Pommy started to protest, but Bomberman nudged him with the side of his foot. "He needs to stay with Kalnithi and out of the way," he said, pointedly glaring at Pommy.

"As you say, then." Draegaria took off into the air along with Lilith. "Take her other side!" she ordered. "We'll surround her!"

Lilith swiftly moved to the side opposite Draegaria. She clenched a fist in front of her, which suddenly flashed golden. With a flick of her hand, she sent four glowing knives of pure chi straight at Procne.

_FW-FW-FW-FWWWSHH!_

They embedded themselves into the side of Procne's neck. She shrieked and tilted slightly towards Draegaria's side. Draegaria unleashed a wave of energy at Procne from a glyph she sketched in the air with her staff, but it missed by a foot as Procne promptly swung in the other direction.

Lilith flung eight more energy knives Procne's way. Most of them hit their mark, sending Procne into a frenzy as the energy from the knives drained into her body, but still the divine creature remained aloft. "Well," Lilith said, smirking. "I guess we'll just have to make things more interesting, won't we?" She held her hands out. A bright, glowing ball of chi coalesced between her palms, which she stretched out into an energy lance by passing her palms over each other.

Procne suddenly turned on Lilith, a predatory gaze fixing upon her. She fired an iridescent beam of energy from her open beak.

_VWWOOOOMM!_

Lilith was blasted from the sky, hit dead-on by the attack. She slammed into the ground, tumbling and skidding until she lay limp and disoriented.

"Lilith!" Bomberman jolted from his spot, sprinting.

Overhead, Procne soared, screeching. She tilted her wings...then her body...and dive-bombed.

_SWOOOSSHHH!_

Before Bomberman could even register that Procne's claws had nearly scalped him, those claws had already snatched Lilith from his sights. He swore loudly and was about to fling a fire bomb when he realized that a series of residential buildings lay right in the bomb's trajectory. Bomberman was reduced to staring in horror as Procne soared into a glowing portal, Lilith dangling from her claws. "N-no..." he whispered as the portal disappeared. "_Lilith!_"

"Myu..." Pommy whined, scurrying up beside Bomberman. "Procne took Lilith!"

"Your friend demonstrated great power," Draegaria said, landing gently behind Pommy and Bomberman. Kalnithi quickly joined them. "Procne would have caught her sooner or later."

"But why?" Bomberman asked.

Draegaria sighed, looking weary. "I don't know. We only know that those Procne has taken have been, without fail, been some of the most powerful shamans this tribe has had, no matter the age or gender."

Bomberman swallowed. "I have to save Lilith," he insisted. "There's a way to save her and the others, right?"

"We have attempted to figure out an answer to your question since the kidnappings began." With a slow turn of her body, Draegaria headed in the other direction. "Follow me, outsider. You have experienced a grave loss from this...you deserve to know what is going on."

B-O-M-B

Jova's third riddle is from The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien.

Jova's fourth riddle is from Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll.


	18. Horizon: Here Comes History

Bomberman, with Pommy in tow, followed Draegaria and Kalnithi through the vacant streets of Philomel. Everywhere they walked, Bomberman saw sadness, confusion, and despair. A "closed" sign hanging in front of a dirty shop window fell as he passed it by. It was clear that there had been attempts at repair on the shop, but the attempts looked abandoned...or interrupted.

"Do you like what you see of Philomel, outsider?"

Bomberman wondered if Draegaria was deliberately choosing to ignore the introduction he gave of himself earlier. "In its current condition, not so much," he admitted. "But it looks like it was once beautiful."

"It _was_ once beautiful," Draegaria agreed. "In some ways, it still is. We take great pride in the beauty and tranquility of our city, built in the honor of our guardian.

"But that was changed the instant Procne took her first victim: Teume, a young woman who was in my service as a tutor for Kalnithi." Draegaria nodded in acknowledgment as an old man and a boy bowed upon her passing. "We were stunned. Not only had Procne not shown herself to commonfolk out of her own volition in at least three centuries, but she had acted against the role we presumed of her. For this situation, we had to defer to the only one who had the knowledge and experience necessary to determine the cause of Procne's actions: the Channeler."

"The Channeler?" Bomberman asked.

"The Channeler is the only one who has a direct connection to Procne herself," Kalnithi said. "He or she mediates between the wishes and needs of the tribe members and the wishes of Procne."

Draegaria nodded. "Our most recent Channeler is an outsider by the name of Ashtarth, who has perhaps been one of the best by the tribe's memory of our history." She suddenly stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face Bomberman. "Being the Channeler is not a simple or easy task. There is much you must give up in order to be able to ensure that you can listen to and understand Procne's wishes, for you are essentially Procne's representative in Philomel. You must be there for the people, who need guidance and help from Procne but cannot talk to her directly. Ashtarth has always done an excellent job of this, particularly for an outsider. He has demonstrated unusual understanding of any messages Procne has given him, and empathy for the tribe's problems and people."

"But...?" Bomberman prompted.

"When we first consulted him about Procne's behavior, he claimed that Procne was unwell, and that he was working to determine the cause. We hadn't ever heard of our guardian being unwell before, but considering Ashtarth's talents, we trusted his answer and his ability to do something about it." Draegaria turned to resume walking. "Two weeks later, another shaman was taken, one of my own council members. Ashtarth said it would take a while before he could give a clear answer. Again, we trusted him, even when three more shamans went missing in the time until we next talked to him, and their families were grieving in the streets, crying out to Procne for mercy." Draegaria sighed. "During this time, Ashtarth gave explicit orders that he was not to be disturbed at the shrine of Procne by anyone for any reason, contrary to what he usually did during a time of crisis. We assumed that he needed the concentration and solitude to determine the cause of Procne's actions, and told the tribe thusly.

"But a month passed with no word from him. We finally went to see him ourselves to ask after his progress. To our surprise, he claimed that Procne was displeased with how powerful some of the members had become, and that they were aspiring to be even more powerful than Procne herself. Thus, Procne took them away to be punished."

"I didn't get it..." Kalnithi mumbled. "It wasn't Teume's fault that she could do cool things."

"I didn't understand either," Draegaria said. "Teume, with all of her talents, was one of the last people I would ever accuse of being prideful and power-hungry." She finally stopped by a dry fountain and took a seat at the edge of it, as did Bomberman and Kalnithi. Pommy settled comfortably at Bomberman's feet. "I argued with my council about the truthfulness of this claim, and whether we should tell the tribe. In the end, we remained silent.

"Not long afterwards, another shaman was taken. This time Ashtarth came directly to us and claimed that Procne was 'furious with our lies and deception', and ordered that all manner of teaching the magick of our ancestors be stopped in order to appease Procne." Draegaria shook her head. "It made no sense, but we were beginning to get desperate, so I had the Mandala issue an official order to shut down any learning institutions that we had, as well as to relieve teachers and tutors of their duties and be set to work for other things. Still, over the weeks, shamans continued to be taken, powerful ones from all walks of life.

"It then struck me as suspicious that, throughout this, Ashtarth had not been targeted by Procne in any way that we could tell. True, he was her Channeler, and thus would be essential to Procne in conveying her apparent displeasure with the tribe." Draegaria folded her hands regally in her lap. "But Ashtarth has shown himself to be proficient in our tribal magick, along with his own personal skills. We have never seen or heard of anything like him since the time that the founder of our tribe, Enkidion, flew these skies. Some have speculated that Ashtarth is the reincarnation of Enkidion himself, even though he is not of our blood. If anyone stood the highest chance of being taken or harmed by Procne, it was him."

"How long did it take before you realized any of this?" Bomberman asked.

"It must have been at least seven months since Teume was first taken."

Bomberman frowned. "That sounds like a long time for this Ashtarth to be figuring out what was wrong with Procne." He shrugged. "Then again, I don't actually know how any of this stuff works, so maybe there's something I'm missing here?"

Draegaria shook her head; her curls bounced around her face. "No, you are correct in your assumptions. I thought it was taking an unusually long time as well. But I would have been more reassured if he at least came to me periodically to discuss his progress, or lack thereof as the case may be. He was never a withdrawn person; he tended to come down from the shrine to simply converse with whoever happened to be nearby, and he was free with his thoughts." She sighed. "As it was, Ashtarth became extremely reclusive prior to the first kidnapping, essentially sequestering himself in the shrine. He even put up a magickal shield around the shrine entrance that prevented anyone from getting in. Outside of the time he visited my court to chastise me for my supposed lies, he _never_ came down of his own volition to talk with the tribe and ease their fears, like he'd done in previous times of crises.

"After nine months and four more kidnappings, we had had enough. The tribe was starting to get restless and angry, and were threatening retaliation against Ashtarth. I took several of my best shamans—of those who remained—with me when I visited Ashtarth at the shrine. I demanded a reason for the changes in his behavior; I laid out the pains of our people. And what did he do? He told me that if I dared to question the sanctity of what he was doing, then I had no right to even breathe the same air as he, never mind to be the Sky Queen of Philomel."

"Myu! That wasn't nice at all!" Pommy exclaimed.

"A battle ensued between my shamans and him." The Sky Queen bowed her head. "Ashtarth killed them, every single one. He knew the magicks the shamans would weave and unraveled them effortlessly. He ripped off their wings with his own natural powers before sending them over the edge and into the sky below."

Pommy's eyes widened in horror. "That's horrible..."

"After that, I dared not approach him again. I related the news to the Mandala, and then to the rest of the tribe, who received them with grief, surprise, and anger. If our Channeler had turned against us so violently, what hope did we have against Procne? We have tried so many times to subdue her...we created a group of shamans that we could use to ensnare Procne in a trap, but Procne has proved too quick and powerful, and would be gone before we could do anything. Most people here have surrendered to an uncertain existence, one in which anyone could be gone the next instant, one in which missing loved ones are assumed dead. Some foolish avengers, attempting to exact their own justice, paid Ashtarth a visit...only to suffer the same fate as my shamans."

Bomberman nodded, feeling deeply sympathetic for the losses of this Sky Queen who didn't call him by name and whom he had never heard of until now. She was austere through her story, her eyes and voice never wavering, but her grief and anger came through in every word she spoke, hovering in the air like moths. It pervaded the air in such a manner that Bomberman felt he didn't dare speak a word of attempted consolation, in case he destroyed the fragility of a web of emotions that Draegaria seemed to rarely spin for an audience, never mind some outsider with strange abilities who had just arrived not even two hours before. There was some sort of privilege in hearing this catharsis; Bomberman wanted to respect it as much as he could.

"I have my suspicions," Draegaria began slowly, "that Ashtarth is controlling Procne, or has corrupted her...or maybe it is the other way around. I also suspect that there may be an even greater evil at work that has corrupted the both of them, because the things they have done are completely against what I thought I knew of their natures." She shrugged gracefully. "I've no hard evidence of this, of course—it's near impossible to gather any in our situation. Even our divinations have failed us."

Bomberman thought a moment. "Isn't there anyone around him that you could ask?" he suggested. "Someone who works with him at the shrine...?"

"Ashtarth is incredibly self-sufficient," Draegaria said. "Previous Channelers have had servants to help them with their daily duties, but even when he was first accepted into the position, he kindly dismissed all the servants, preferring to do everything himself: keeping the shrine in order, growing the majority of his own food, cooking his own meals, and other things. I think he took a sacred sort of pleasure in such menial tasks. Everyone admired him greatly for this...but it's proven to our detriment now."

"What about family, friends, or acquaintances?"

"Ashtarth is an outsider who came to us alone one day, with a humble request to be allowed to join our way of life. He has not spoken of any family, and even if he had, we would not be able to contact them. As for friends...he was friendly with everyone, but there was no one here that he grew particularly close to, although I can tell you that many a young woman became infatuated with him. He's broken a couple of hearts, without a doubt." Draegaria let out a soft laugh, and for a moment a certain sort of cheer returned to her features. "But he was ultimately a duty-minded individual, almost scarily so. Being the Channeler of Procne is simultaneously a communal and solitary existence: you must be able to talk freely with the tribe, but it is also important to spend time alone to keep in communion with Procne. In between those two things and contributing to the upkeep to the shrine, there is not much time for selfish pleasures."

"That seems like a really boring life," Pommy murmured.

Bomberman nudged Pommy with his foot again. "Pommy!" he hissed.

Draegaria laughed. "I must admit that sometimes I wonder what allure the life of a Channeler offers an individual, other than the privilege of communicating directly with Procne. Then again, I suppose something like being able to be in direct communion with our guardian is allure enough." She returned to a more serious countenance. "Outsider, I know not what your powers are, exactly. I have never seen or heard of them before. But, as Kalnithi suggested to me earlier, it is for that very reason that you may be the first real hope we have had in a long time, an unexpected factor that will catch Ashtarth off his guard. I believe he must be stopped, but even I, the leader of this tribe, am powerless to do anything." She stood up, smoothing out her skirts. "You have a personal stake in this situation now, so I assume that you are willing to confront Ashtarth if it means possibly freeing your friend."

Bomberman nodded.

"Still...I am desperate, but I am no fool. You must pass a test first, before myself and my council, to determine whether we can chance putting our trust in your talents."

"Understood," Bomberman said, also standing up. "I'll do what you ask of me if it means I can save Lilith, and your people as well."

"Then let's set off for the palace. I will present you to the Mandala, and we will see how things proceed from there."


	19. Horizon: A Bomber in Draegaria's Court

Draegaria's palace was a trio of step pyramids carved from brownish granite floating in the air. The central pyramid was the largest of all, comprising nine steps, with each step apparently housing a functioning floor. The tribal designs of interwoven shapes that Bomberman had seen at various points around Philomel were reproduced in even greater grandeur across the exteriors. Orbiting the palace were large spheres painted in ruby, emerald, and lapis lazuli, humming with magick.

"It is impossible to get to the palace unless one takes flight," Draegaria explained. "If you will carry your creature, I can carry the both of you over to the palace." At Bomberman's incredulous expression, she only smiled. "Outsider, I am stronger than I look."

Not seeing any alternative, Bomberman nodded and scooped Pommy up, who was once again miffed at being called a creature. Draegaria carefully picked Bomberman up in her arms, unfolded her wings, and took flight, with Kalnithi following close behind. Bomberman had to admit that the less he had to travel by this method, the better off his pride (and bladder) would be.

Luckily, the trip to the palace's front courtyard was short and smooth. Draegaria set Bomberman down as gently and in as dignified a manner as possible. "We must be quick," she said, swiftly moving past Bomberman. If her wings hadn't already retracted into her back, Bomberman would have thought she was flying, considering the speed and grace with which she moved. "The sooner you can prove yourself to the council, the sooner we can save what remains of Philomel."

"M-my queen!" yelped a willowy, golden-haired man upon seeing the approach of Draegaria and Bomberman. He was garbed in shades of midnight blue with red accents, and wore vambraces of dull iron. "Who is this...being...that accompanies you?"

"Yedari, summon the Mandala—Inner _and_ Outer—at this instant," Draegaria commanded. "They are to be in the Midnight Hall within half the hour."

Flustered and more than slightly confused, Yedari bowed. "As you wish, my queen." He took flight with a flap of rich brown wings.

With that done, Draegaria spent the next few minutes attempting to dismiss Kalnithi to his quarters. When she finally succeeded in convincing him, she turned to Bomberman. "I will present you before the Mandala," she explained as she led him through the courtyard to the ground floor of the pyramid, which had no walls, only rows of columns around the perimeter that people entered or exited at will. Nobles and servants alike stopped momentarily in their business to take in the oddity that was Bomberman. "The Mandala is a council comprising twenty advisors and representatives from the four main section of Philomel, and are divided into the Inner Mandala and the Outer Mandala. They will vote on whether to subject you to our test. And you _will_ be allowed to take that test if I can help it, pardon my bluntness."

"Can I ask what this test entails, your Highness?" Bomberman asked somewhat meekly. Draegaria wasn't necessarily a frightening person, but her presence couldn't be denied. "I mean, you already know that I can't fly..."

"Not to worry, outsider...apologies, I should probably learn your name properly before I present you. What is it?" Bomberman told her again. "Very well, Bomberman. You do not have to worry about lacking flight prowess. We are interested in your strength and abilities as a fighter. Should you pass the test to the satisfaction of the majority of the Mandala, we will grant you a power that, while it will not enable you to fly, should nonetheless be extremely helpful against Ashtarth for a landbound being such as yourself."

_What sort of power is going to help me in a fight here if it's not going to allow me to fly? _Bomberman wondered, perplexed.

B-O-M-B

The Midnight Hall was nowhere near as dark as its name suggested, although the walls were definitely darker in tone than what Bomberman had previously seen in most of Philomel. Maybe it was simply the lack of light in the room, sunbeams crawling through the narrow windows clustered near the ceiling. It was disturbingly claustrophobic when compared to the airy lightness of the first few floors. According to Draegaria, the chamber was named after a particularly honorable member of the Inner Mandala from some time back in the tribe's history. Bomberman nodded as though such a fact had significance for him as she led him down past the step-shaped seats that recessed into the floor and curved around the room in a semicircle. She motioned for him to take a seat at the chair situated next to the podium, which Bomberman did. Pommy lay at Bomberman's feet once again; Bomberman wondered why Pommy seemed to find his feet such a comfortable place to rest.

The hall had been half-empty when Bomberman sat down, but soon enough it began to fill with more well-dressed council members, each seemingly more shocked, confused, and disdainful of Bomberman's presence than his or her predecessor. Bomberman dropped his gaze and crossed his arms as casually as he could.

"Keep your head up," Draegaria ordered quietly, her eyes silently greeting the Mandala members that filed into the room. "You must not cower before them. Outsider though you are, and wingless as well, you have every right to be here now."

Bomberman re-focused his gaze on a spot on the wall across from him instead, a spot that was high enough so that he wouldn't accidentally catch someone's eye. But as the rest of the Mandala filed in, Bomberman had the distinct sensation of being dismantled and left in pieces, like an explosive at the hands of a bomb squad. He noticed out of the corner of his eyes that more than a few of the Mandala members looked like they were itching to ask Draegaria just what the hell was going on, but out of respect they chose to hear her out before voicing their thoughts.

"Respected members of the Mandala, my most trusted council," Draegaria began, sweeping out a pale arm at the people gathered in inquiringly-faced silence. "I realize that this is an unexpected interruption in your daily lives, and that our next official meeting was not to be held until a week and a half from this day. However, something has come up which I believe must be placed under immediate consideration." Her hand shifted in Bomberman's direction. "Before you now is Bomberman, an outsider. As a result of well-intentioned actions on the part of your prince, he and a lady friend of his ended up within our borders not more than a few hours ago. It was at this time that Procne struck again...and chose, as her victim, Bomberman's friend. Because of this loss, I believe he has the right to be here now." A pause for effect. "But even more importantly...I believe that he may also stand a chance to help us in the matters concerning Ashtarth."

The air was positively sucked from the hall in a unified gasp of disbelief. "Your Majesty!" sputtered a middle-aged woman, jumping to her feet. "What do you mean by this? He does not even possess wings...unless he can somehow fly without them, like Ashtarth can? And even if he _could_ do such a thing, I could not, in good conscience, send a young _boy_ against someone like the Channeler!"

Bomberman let out a long mental sigh.

"I have my doubts as well," said Draegaria. "But that is precisely why I have brought him here for your consideration. Bomberman is willing to risk his life to do anything that will save his friend. If he is able to rescue his friend from the clutches of Procne, it should follow that we will have a chance to rescue our own from her as well."

"So what exactly can this young fellow do that's so special?" inquired an older man with a peppery-colored mustache.

"I must confess that I've not seen his abilities for myself yet," Draegaria said. "You may, however, ask Kalnithi about it later, since he was there when Bomberman and his friend disposed of the monsters that were haunting the southern pass." She smiled slightly at the surprised looks she got with that. "Still, it is my belief that it would be more beneficial to instead let him _show_ you what he can do. And thus, I wish to test him in the Square."

Another hushed mix of whispered exclamations and private discussions flitted about. "Will he even survive?" a young brunette asked, her brow scrunched in worry. "That's the highest test of physical endurance and skill that a tribe warrior can undergo while landbound. I don't wish for the tribe to bear the responsibility of having put him to death...even if he _is_ an outsider."

"Pfft!" came the snort of her male colleague next to her, waving a dismissive wrist. "You worry for no reason, Elida. If the fledgling can't survive that, he's got no chance against Ashtarth!"

"But like Haelana said," Elida responded, "he doesn't appear to be able to fly. So even if he passes the trial at the Square, how can he hope to survive against Ashtarth?" Her eyes widened. "Unless you mean to give him the Shackles?"

"Only for the necessary amount of time," Draegaria said.

All eyes turned on Draegaria, intrigued. Bomberman was also curious about what the queen was talking about. From what he'd been able to glean so far, Ashtarth had the ability to fly despite having no wings. Draegaria, however, had said that she could grant no such abilities to Bomberman. _So what exactly am I going to be able to do if I pass this test of theirs?_ he thought, worried.

"My queen, those haven't been used in ages," the older man from earlier warned. "Will their magick still be effective?"

"I will send Masters Thilon and Kijra to determine whether this is so," Draegaria said. "In the meantime, does the Mandala see benefit to what I am proposing? Let Bomberman undergo the trial at the Square, and if he succeeds, we will assist him accordingly against Ashtarth and Procne."

There was a sour groan from the left side of the hall. "How low have we fallen that we must turn to a landbound outsider for help," a middle-aged man growled, his face chiseled with arrogance. "Have we no pride?"

"Have you no _memory_, you aging fool?" another elderly woman snapped. Her bracelets and anklets jangled as she stood up to reprimand the man. "If you'll recall, our current Channeler—possibly the best that Philomel has seen prior to this nonsense with Procne—is, by tribal definition, a 'landbound outsider'!"

"Indeed," the man retorted, "and look where it has us now!"

"We've not much to lose," the woman called Haelana said. "If he fails the trial, so be it. If he passes, I have no problems assisting him as needed against Ashtarth."

"But suppose he can't defeat Ashtarth," Elida's male companion argued. "It's likely that Ashtarth will seek reparations from us for daring to defy him again."

"On the contrary," Draegaria said, "the only time we've lost people directly by his hand was when we sent that first group of shamans to their death and whenever vigilantes attempted to wage their own war against him. It seems to me that our Channeler is rather disinclined to want much to do with us unless we come to him first. This"—and the ringing effect of the word effectively silenced the young man's next argument—"is why I also propose that Bomberman, should he prove himself to us in the Square, will fight Ashtarth alone."

Though he had been planning on it anyway, Bomberman still gave Draegaria a startled glance. It was true that he wanted to avoid as much collateral damage as possible. But if this tribe's most powerful warriors had been grounded by Ashtarth, did he even stand a chance?

"That doesn't sound ethical to me..." Elida said.

"This is hardly a time to be worrying about ethics where that maniac is concerned," her companion muttered under his breath.

Elida frowned and swatted him on the shoulder, looking upset.

"We will assist Bomberman in any way we can prior to his confrontation with Ashtarth, which includes escorting him up to Procne's shrine. From there, he is on his own. This way, we suffer no significant losses to the tribe." Draegaria folded her hands and rested them on the podium. "You see that we will lose very little if we allow Bomberman to undergo the test, and much to gain. What does the Mandala say?"

A pause. "Do...you wish for an answer now, your Majesty?" a blond-haired man asked. He bore an uncanny resemblance to Yedari.

Draegaria nodded. "I see no reason for dallying. I'd prefer to see as quickly as possible whether my faith in him is warranted."

"We barely know him!" the arrogant-looking man from earlier snapped, standing up. "Who's to say that he wasn't summoned by Ashtarth himself to destroy us from the inside?"

"You imagine too many morbid scenarios, Rai," Draegaria said calmly, "and for all your scorn about the inadequacies of outsiders, you certainly give this young man a lot of credit. But even if I did not believe in the sincerity that I sense from him, we could still stave off the reality of your idea simply by getting this over with as swiftly as possible and by keeping him under strict watch." She glanced at Bomberman. "You do not have a problem with this?"

Bomberman shook his head.

"Well, I suppose our queen has a point," a hunched old woman said. "We've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. Just let the fledgling do as she says."

The Yedari look-alike snickered. "At the very least, seeing how he fares in the Square will be some good entertainment. We could all use that, could we not?"

"Ugh!" Elida made a face. "You're so crude, Ridaye."

One by one, the members of both the Inner and Outer Mandala gave their consent to let Bomberman undergo the trial at the Square, whatever it happened to be. Even sullen Rai grudgingly gave the go-ahead, mumbling something about Philomel being doomed anyway.

With unanimous approval secured, Draegaria stood up. "It is settled. At half the hour after the end of the midday meal, I expect to see all of you at the Square. This meeting is ended."


	20. Horizon: Being Square

Bomberman was treated to a less-than-pleasant lunch sitting by Draegaria in the palace's dining hall. Draegaria herself was surprisingly amicable, especially given her initial disdain of him. But the looks he got from the other occupants of the palace after Draegaria made a general, brief announcement explaining his presence unnerved him to the point that he could barely eat. It was just as well, since the meal was less to his liking than back in Nereid (it was some sort of poultry in a soury, nutty sauce that disagreed quite sharply with his tongue). But it was edible, and besides he was sitting next to his host, so Bomberman didn't dare complain. Pommy seemed to find his own meal absolutely delicious. He even had the audacity to ask for seconds, much to Draegaria's amusement.

Afterwards, Bomberman was personally escorted by Draegaria through the streets of Philomel, with Pommy in his arms (Pommy was complaining of a stomachache and didn't want to walk). Though Bomberman hadn't completely warmed up to her, it was reassuring to have her authority literally on his side. Kalnithi had joined his mother for the occasion, and walked on the other side of her. The members of the Mandala followed in succession behind Draegaria and Bomberman like exceptionally long tail feathers of mismatched hues. Gossip buzzed like killer bees amongst the Mandala. Bomberman heard unflattering questions and remarks about his age, his non-ability to fly, his unimposing stature, his strange clothes, and other tabloid-worthy details. Well, he heard them through Pommy, at least. The Mandala followed a good distance behind Draegaria both out of respect for Draegaria and to better be able to discuss their pet theories about Bomberman without being overheard. They, of course, hadn't counted on Pommy's superior ears. It was already a massive walk through Philomel to get to the Square, for it rested a fair distance beyond the main settlement limits, but Pommy's attempt to be helpful by relaying the words he heard from the Mandala made the trip seem interminably long. Bomberman had asked Draegaria why they hadn't just flown.

Draegaria gave him the tiniest of smirks. "I merely wished to put you at ease as much as possible before the trial. It was my impression that flying didn't seem to sit well with you when I carried you over to the palace."

Bomberman simpered and mumbled his thanks.

The Square was, true to its name, a large square chasm embedded in the ground. The floor was composed of stone tiles, some of which featured cobra designs. Eight giant statues of armored knights holding either battle-axes or spears stood evenly spaced all around in a three-by-three formation, leaving a wide space in the center. Around the rim of the chasm were audience seats, primitive bleachers of stone and wood. It reminded Bomberman of the layout of the standard deathmatch arena back home on Bomber Star.

"The trial of the Square is based in survival," Draegaria said as Kalnithi and the members of the Mandala scrambled to find good places to watch. "Once you enter the Square, your goal is to still be conscious at the end of ten minutes."

Bomberman looked at her...looked at the Square...then looked at her again. "That's it?"

"It is a simple goal that has proven difficult for tested warriors to achieve over the ages. You'll find out soon enough what your challenge involves. Are you ready to begin?"

Bomberman gave the arena one last look, trying to get hints as to the details of his trial. Finding nothing to tip him off, he sighed. "I'm ready."

"Bomberman can do it!" Pommy cheered, holding up a spherical pink fist. "Pommy believes in Bomberman!"

Draegaria gestured towards the arena. A set of ethereal stairs leading into the Square materialized. "Enter."

Bomberman descended the staircase, each step disintegrating into fine particles of light as he walked. With one final step, he stood at the center of the Square.

"In my authority as the Sky Queen of Philomel," Draegaria announced, holding out an hourglass on a chain, "I hereby declare this trial begun!" And she flipped the hourglass.

As if awakened by the force of Draegaria's words, the eight knight statues surrounding Bomberman groaned and shuddered as they came to life. Their eyes glowed yellow. They hoisted their weapons and marched straight for Bomberman.

Bomberman raised an eyebrow. "Well, if _that's_ how we're going to do things..." He tossed out a couple of experimental explosives at the statues in front of him.

_BOOM! BOOM!_

There were shrieks of surprise from above. "Wh-what sort of magick is this?" came Rai's half-indignant, half-frightened exclamation.

"I don't know," a younger male voice answered, "but this just got way more interesting!"

Bomberman surveyed the damage he'd inflicted. The two statues that he had managed to hit were sooty, with slight fractures in their armor, but they were nowhere near out of commission. He started to charge two superbombs, but one of the knights suddenly tossed its spear at Bomberman, forcing him to sidestep and almost causing him to lose control over his bombs. Just when he'd finished charging them, another knight behind him let out a yell, jumped in the air, and slammed into the ground feet-first.

_KA-__**WHAAAMM!**_

"Ack!" The shockwaves threw Bomberman off-balance. He landed hard on his back. One of his superbombs rolled away from him, towards three of the knights. _BLAAAM!_ The other landed a few feet from his head. Bomberman crawled and stumbled and ran—

_BLAAAAMMM!_

The force of the explosion sent him tumbling into a wall. Pieces of armor that were blown off some of the knight statues rained all around him. Bomberman held up his arms to protect himself from the worst of it. When he finally dared to look again, he saw that he'd managed to completely destroy the armor of at least one of the knights. This was hardly a reassuring thought, considering that the very same knight was now charging at him full speed, battle-axe at the ready. Bomberman dove to the side as the knight swung his axe.

_WHAM!_ The axe embedded itself into the wall.

Bomberman took that chance to make an escape for a less cluttered area of the arena. In his flight, he stepped on one of the tiles engraved with a cobra. It glowed green with his touch.

He looked down at blinked. "What the—"

Something large, purple, and scaly shot up from the floor—a deadly-looking cobra. It landed in a coil on the ground, then raised its head and hissed, flaring its hood.

Bomberman growled and conjured a bomb. "Sorry, I'm not much of a snake charmer," he said. "Find yourself a different rat to swallow!"

"Hraaaaugh!" One of the knights, now directly behind Bomberman, brought down its axe in a vertical arc.

Bomberman jumped out of the way.

The axe came down—_SWOOOSH—_and sliced the cobra in two.

Each half of the cobra twitched before turning into ashes.

_So those tiles weren't just decoration,_ Bomberman thought. _Close call there._ He made a quick survey of his situation. There were at least four more similar tiles scattered around the arena, but he wasn't sure that stepping on a tile twice would cause it to summon another cobra, and he wasn't about to find out. The more pressing issue, however, was the fact that the eight knight statues were still ready to wreak havoc on his outsider ass. "Your Majesty?" Bomberman called. "How much time do I have left?"

Draegaria checked the hourglass. "About seven minutes or so. Why?"

Bomberman smirked. "That's plenty of time to work a little hocus pocus of my own." He switched to ice bombs and took off into the fray.

The air rang with explosions and filled with smoke as Bomberman carried out his "hocus pocus." If spectators weren't covering their ears from the noise, they were hacking their breaths out from the smoke—though most of them ended up doing both sooner or later. Draegaria remained stately and calm, her eyes never straying from the Square even though there was no way she could see anything. Pommy hopped up and down impatiently, calling out cheers that got lost in the din.

With one final echoing blast, everything suddenly fell silent. The smoke cleared. Bomberman stood in the center of the Square once again, slightly out of breath but otherwise in good shape. This was more than could be said for the knight statues lying in icy pieces all around him: he'd frozen them in their places with ice bombs on his first go-around, then ultimately shattered them with fire superbombs on a return trip. "So," he began, looking up. "Did I pass?"

"See, Mother?" Kalnithi said, looking ecstatic. "I _told_ you he could be helpful here!"

Haelana was staring in awe. "He...he destroyed them," she muttered, tracing a triangle over her heart. "No one's ever destroyed the Square Guardians before!"

Ridaye smirked. "Color me impressed," he said. "So the outsider does have potential after all."

"_Potential?_" one of the other members exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "You heard Haelana—the fledgling _destroyed_ the Guardians! That's a hell of a lot more than 'potential'!"

"I'm glad he passed," Elida said sincerely, "but I do wonder what we're going to do the next time someone needs to undergo the trial at the Square, since we no longer seem to have any Guardians to test them against..."

Draegaria held up a hand to silence conversations. "To answer your question, Bomberman," she said, "yes, you passed." Her smile held a hint of maternal pride. "In fact, I daresay you've transcended to a level beyond 'pass'."

"Yay!" Pommy jumped around. "Pommy knew that Bomberman could do it! Myuuuu!"

Bomberman climbed the magical stairs that Draegaria conjured for him, somehow feeling only mildly relieved that he'd passed a test that wasn't as bad as it could have been.


	21. Horizon: It's All Relative

Bomberman, Pommy, Draegaria, Kalnithi, and the Mandala returned to the ground floor of the palace's main building, where they were met by Yedari. He fluttered to a stop in front of Draegaria and bowed before speaking. "Your Highness, the masters have confirmed that the magick still flows strongly in the metal," he said.

Draegaria nodded. "Good. Have the masters bring them to the audience hall."

As Yedari left to carry out Draegaria's orders, Pommy looked up at Bomberman. "Pommy wonders what they'll give Bomberman," he said. "Pommy bets it's something cool!"

Palace servants and residents alike began to crowd the floor, curious about the occasion. Bomberman was thankfully relieved of the presence of the masses when they entered the queen's audience hall, which was the only closed-off room on the ground floor. Still, he could see the potential eavesdroppers hovering right by the entrance as Ridaye gently pulled the heavy stone door shut.

Yedari eventually entered the audience hall, flanked by a man and a woman both in faded blue robes. The woman carried an ornately carved wooden box whose lid was covered in glass mosaic tiles. As she approached Draegaria, she knelt and held the box out to the queen, who took it gently from her hands.

"Bomberman," Draegaria said, "for your display of excellence at the trial, and in accordance with what was agreed upon earlier, I present you with these." She flipped the lid.

Inside the box, nestled in a tiny bed of soft blue fabric, lay a pair of thin prisoner's shackles carved with runic designs. No chain bound them together; only two metal links remained hanging on either one. The shackles themselves shimmered faintly white.

Bomberman reached out hesitantly, then drew back. "What are these?" he asked.

"These are Tereus' Shackles." Draegaria nodded at the man and woman, presumably Thilon and Kijra. They snatched the shackles from the box and quickly fitted them around the ankles of a startled Bomberman. "The legend goes that a man named Tereus had wronged Enkidion in some manner, and so Enkidion exacted his revenge on him by stripping Tereus of his wings and fitting these shackles on him, so that he would always be landbound no matter where he went.

"The shackles will allow you to stand on any surface, no matter what direction the surface faces. All you need to do is to determine what you wish to stand upon, and then imagine that surface as the ground beneath your feet."

Bomberman stared down at his new accessory. The shackles hadn't looked too heavy to begin with, but he was still surprised that they felt very light and comfortable on his ankles. He shook out a leg, jangling the chain links against the metal.

Draegaria continued in her explanation. "Once you are standing on a surface, you will able to traverse its entirety until you mentally change surfaces again." She held out a persuasive hand. "Go on. Look at the ceiling, and imagine it as the ground."

Bomberman eyed the ceiling far above him, painted with surreal murals whose details he couldn't make out from his lowly place on the floor. He shrugged. _Here goes nothing_. He imagined that particular patch of brown and green with dots of pink below the soles of his sneakers.

In half a second, Bomberman's world flip-flopped (as did his stomach). His feet swept out from under him, and he found himself hurtling towards the ceiling. _FWMP!_ He landed safely on the peeling paint, throwing up (down?) dust and paint chips. He bent his head back a little to get a better view of the ground floor, catching sight of applause and cheers from those in the hall. "Whoah," he finally breathed.

"Walk around," Thilon encouraged. "Jump, if you like. You can see quite plainly that although that is the ceiling from our standpoint, you are able to walk on it as though it is the ground."

Bomberman slid one foot in front of the other, still trying to get used to his new vantage point. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it was weird, for sure: he kept on expecting to simply drop down at any moment. He walked around the base of a chandelier, and noticed a pillar across from him that sported a purple-and-green banner hanging from it. Bomberman thought of the pillar as his down direction...and down he went. Or sideways, technically speaking. He landed right next to the banner, causing the fabric to ripple a little. Another wave of applause rose up.

"Looks like the fledgling's got it," Ridaye remarked. "I knew he had it in him."

"Save your praises," Elida said dryly.

"That's so cool!" Pommy squealed, clapping. "Pommy wants to try!"

"Are you comfortable with those?" asked Draegaria. "You do not feel that they hinder you?"

Bomberman flipped off the wall and landed on the floor. "The shackles themselves feel fine, your Highness," he said. "But I might need a little more time to get used to them. I've fought in the air before, but I've never done anything like this."

Draegaria nodded. "There may be a suitable place for you to practice not too far from here." She headed for the door. "I will leave you in the care of Yedari and Thilon. Yedari is the head of my shamanic guard; Thilon is a master of spell-weaving. Should anything go amiss, those two will be quite capable of handling matters."

B-O-M-B

Bomberman was led to another place near the outermost limits of Philomel, this time on the western side. It was the foundation of a long-destroyed building, with rocks and bricks everywhere. Platforms of varying size, however, remained floating in the air, suspended by a mysterious force and serving a mysterious purpose.

"This will be an ideal place for you to familiarize yourself with the shackles, I believe," Draegaria said. "There are enough aerial platforms for you to learn how to maneuver, but enough solid ground to ensure your safety."

Bomberman started to nod, but thought it would be more appropriate to bow instead. "Thank you for...for your trust and your assistance, your Majesty. I'll do my best to repay you." He paused. "Er...is there a certain time you need me to be finished by?"

"If you are talking about plans for the rest of the day, I will have Yedari and Thilon bring you back for dinner. Otherwise..." A sad smile. "Philomel has waited long enough for a chance like this. It can continue to wait for as long as you need." With spread wings, she took off for the palace again.

Yedari regarded Bomberman with a formal nod of the head. "Thilon and I shall maintain some distance from here, in case you do not feel comfortable with us watching you. We shall be tending to our individual duties in the meantime, but if you need anything, you may call for us."

Bomberman nodded in thanks. Yedari and Thilon flew away.

"Come on!" Pommy said. "Do more cool stuff, Pommy wants to see! Besides, we should hurry up so we can save Lilith_ and_ this city!"

Bomberman's already melancholy mood was further dampened by the memory of Lilith's kidnapping. There wasn't really anything he could've done to save her, and yet... "Yeah. Let's get started."

Doing the actual orientation (as Bomberman had begun to call it) was ridiculously easy. In fact, Bomberman found that he could do it simply by setting a surface in his sights and thinking to himself _'down'_. It was adjusting to the orientation, however, that could cause potential problems. He had no particular fear of heights, and there was no cranial blood rush that would normally occupy such displacement in body orientation. But, Bomberman mused as he wandered idly up the side of a larger stone platform and stepped onto its top, the ability opened up new horizons in possible battle movement and strategy, and he would have to be more mindful of how a different perspective affected his usual tactics. He jogged to the other side of the platform, jumped, and landed in a half-crouch on the side of a higher platform. For good measure, he did a no-handed backflip, testing the limits of the shackles.

Pommy yelped from the ground. "Don't jump like that, Bomberman, myu!" he whimpered. "You might fall!"

"Nah, it's fine." Feeling suddenly bold, Bomberman leapt up the side of yet another platform, landed in a handstand, pushed off from there, flipped up, somersaulted, and landed on the top of that same platform._ Fwp!_ He waved at Pommy...trying his best to hide a slightly shaky landing. "See?"

Pommy wavered between being impressed and being annoyed. "Myuuu," he muttered, going to sit down against a pile of rubble. "Bomberman's just a show-off."

Bomberman rolled his eyes. "You said you wanted me to do more 'cool stuff', didn't you? Anyway, like I said, it's fine. I think the way these things work is that no matter where I'm standing, I'm always going to be 'stuck' on that surface until I decide to change surfaces. It's sort of like if this thing"—he tapped the platform with his foot—"were a giant magnet and I were a piece of metal: no matter where I go or how I move, I'm going to end up back here." He paused. "Okay, that's not a perfect analogy, but you get the idea, don't you?"

Pommy decided to move to a shadier part of the building foundations. "It looks cool, but does Bomberman think this will really help him against Ashtarth?" he asked.

Bomberman shrugged. "I don't know what Ashtarth's abilities are," he said, and he was suddenly struck by the hard truth of his words. He wondered why he hadn't asked before, especially since everyone seemed to talk about just how great Ashtarth was. He vaguely remembered something about Ashtarth flying without wings and ripping off other people's wings—maybe it was wing envy? With a wince, he made a mental note later to pester Draegaria about it.

"Does Bomberman think Ashtarth is the Astral Knight here?" Pommy continued.

Bomberman crossed over the edge of the platform and walked down its side. He hobbled slightly; his head was clear as day, but his stomach still had to do battle with vertigo. He hopped to a lower foothold. "I'm almost certain of that," he said. "The crap he's pulled in Philomel, suddenly stomping in and acting like the big boss...it reminds me of what I heard of Behemos in Nereid."

"Is Bomberman going to kill him?"

A silence.

The whisper of wind.

The chirp of songbirds.

The soft thump of sneakers on stone brick.

"B-Bomberman?"

"No." A pause as Bomberman landed upside down on the underside of what used to be a roof. "No," he repeated, this time more firmly. "I don't do that sort of thing, remember?"

"Myu, Pommy remembers." Pommy looked away. "Pommy was just checking, that's all. Pommy thinks that's very noble of Bomberman."

_Fwmp-fwmp!_ Two successive re-orientations. Bomberman stood on a wall, next to a crumbling window frame. "Call it what you will," he said, kicking at the climbing vines strangling the granite, "but that's how I was taught—how many bombers are taught. It's a hard thing to learn to do when you have the power to blow up half a building with a flick of your hand, but I fight to disable, not to kill."

"But Ashtarth killed those people when they went to go see him. Does he actually deserve to live for something like that?"

Bomberman sighed. "Pommy, you're asking painfully deep questions for a mindless living creampuff."

"Myu?"

"The answer to your question, in all honesty, isn't as easy as yes or no, even though I say it is." He somersaulted and zoomed clear across to the wall on the other side. _FWMP! _He turned to face Pommy, his white hair ruffled by a wind passing through. "I could kill the bastard, yes. But what good would it do in the long run?"

"He wouldn't be doing bad things to these people anymore!"

"But it won't bring back the shamans he killed. I could just as easily"—_easily?—_"put him out of commission in such a way that he won't be able—or want—to do things like that here anymore."

"But how will Bomberman do that?"

"...I don't know," Bomberman admitted. "And I never really do know until the last possible moment. Let's talk about something else—Draegaria said that she wasn't aware of any type of machine being built anywhere in Philomel."

This made Pommy even more depressed. "Myu, but every planet in the black hole is supposed to have one, right?"

_Fwoooosh-tmp!_ Bomberman landed on terra firma—the closest thing to it on these floating islands, anyway—and straightened out his clothes a bit. "Kalnithi said that there were other tribes on this planet, which would meant that there are probably other settlements like Philomel as well." He frowned. "But I can't imagine that Ashtarth would want to stray that far from home base, even to hide something like the generator. I'm almost positive that it's in Philomel somewhere."

"It must be really well-hidden if no one can find it here," Pommy said. "Pommy doesn't think that there's many places to hide something like that."

"Right thinking, marshmallow." Bomberman strode over and sat down on a fallen wooden beam lying on a pile of rocks. It shifted slightly with his weight, but soon stabilized. "And from what I can glean of what Draegaria's told me, it doesn't seem likely that Ashtarth had help from the BHB soldiers in hiding the generator. Since people tend to hide things in places that are familiar to them, the generator might be..." He blinked in sudden revelation. "The shrine...it would have to be somewhere near Procne's shrine."

"Or even in the shrine itself!" Pommy added. "Maybe that's why Ashtarth told no one to visit him at the shrine, because he was busy hiding it in there!" He looked victorious. "Okay, so now we know where the Gravity Generator is!" His ears drooped. "But what about Lilith? And the others that Procne took?"

Bomberman shook his head. "We have no leads on that other than the possibility that Ashtarth and Procne are linked somehow, so we can't really dwell on it too much. We'll focus on Ashtarth first, and then the generator, and then we'll see what's happened to Lilith and the others." Lilith was okay, he told himself. She had proved herself every time Bomberman had seen her, and this time would be no different. Admittedly...he'd only seen her a total of four times. _I'm worrying way too much about someone I've just met_, he grumbled, feeling frustrated with himself. This was the type of thing that would get—and had gotten—people killed out in the field.

At the memory of the redhead, Bomberman took out the Fire Stone and the Water Stone from one of his jean pockets, the treasures that Lilith had asked him to collect and protect. Side by side, the two gems just barely took up the width of his palm. His fingers curled around them; he felt their powers resonate and mingle within. _Did Jun know that there were more Stones like the Fire Stone?_ he pondered. _The only thing that was ever definitively proven about the Fire Stone was that it was a relic of an ancient civilization that used to exist in the area around Diamond City. I guess if you believed in the myths, you would think that there would be different elemental equivalents of the Fire Stone, but Jun's not the type of person to buy into that sort of thing. But if there are other stones like the Fire Stone, does that mean...?_ Lost in his thoughts, Bomberman almost didn't notice that his fingertips were digging into his palm more than they should have been when he was holding something. Alarmed, he stood up and opened his hand. It was empty.

"Myu?" Pommy looked up at Bomberman. "What's wrong?"

"The Stones..." Bomberman muttered, turning his hand every which way. "They're gone."

Pommy yelped. "What? Did Bomberman lose them?"

Bomberman shook his head. "I was just holding them a minute ago!" He did a quick test and found that he could still feel and access the powers of the two elementals. The hand he'd been holding the Stones with tingled faintly with both a burning and an icy sensation. Bomberman shook his hand out, more out of disbelief than of any real attempt to retrieve the Stones again. "The only thing I can think of is that the Stones somehow went into my hands," he concluded, blinking.

"Really?" Pommy made a face. "Can you get them out again?"

Bomberman couldn't. "I'll just ask Lilith the next time I see her," he said, flexing his fingers. "On the bright side, it'll make it harder for the BHB kleptos to steal the Stones from me, and now I have more pocket space." He checked the sun, estimating it to be about late afternoon; he had maybe an hour or two to continue practicing.

Ideally, he thought, stepping onto the wooden beam he'd been sitting on and then leaping to the bottom of a platform from there, he wanted to deal with Ashtarth as early as the next day. It was a risky plan, considering that he knew next to nothing about Ashtarth's powers and that he would have to confront those powers with powers that were unfamiliar to him. But Bomberman didn't think it would be productive to spend more than a day asking around about Ashtarth's abilities, given how little information Draegaria herself had been able to extract from the Channeler. There was also the disheartening possibility that there would be absolutely nothing he could do against Ashtarth, but he'd worry about that once he found out about the specifics.

For now, Bomberman decided to concentrate on getting himself acquainted with Tereus' Shackles. It was the only thing he had any control over right now.

B-O-M-B

When the sky was half-indigo with twilight, Bomberman and Pommy entered the dining hall for dinner. To Bomberman's mild dismay, he saw no sign of Draegaria anywhere.

"Her Majesty is on the top floor, overseeing a ritual to invoke good fortune for tomorrow," a servant answered when Bomberman asked him. "She will not be down for dinner tonight."

Bomberman had to resign himself to eating his dinner. It was poultry again, but this time it was roasted and marinated in an herbal mix that smelled only slightly better than his lunch, and it was accompanied by a dinner roll. As he picked at the roasted bird leg with his fork, a swish of fabric nearby caught his attention.

Smiling down at him was Elida. She had her plate of food in hand, as well as a goblet of a pink-colored beverage. "Hello," she greeted. "You would not mind terribly if I sat next to you, would you?"

Bomberman shook his head. "Not at all!" He motioned to the chair next to him.

Elida nodded her thanks and sat down carefully, tucking her multi-layered skirt under her legs as she did so. She dug into her good, daintily spearing a sprig of herbs on the end of a two-pronged fork. "You were very impressive at the trial today," she said suddenly after chewing her food.

"Oh...thanks."

Elida laughed. "You're a modest one," she said. "How refreshing. Too many of the young men around here are cocky and vain." Before Bomberman could thank her for her second compliment, she continued: "Ashtarth was much like you are, you know. He was powerful, but he never flaunted his skills or boasted about them. He only used his abilities as needed." She lowered her eyes. "Before this whole disaster with Procne, that is."

"Say," Bomberman cut in, feeling guilty about the interruption, "what _are_ Ashtarth's powers, exactly? Outside of being the Channeler, I mean?"

"He controls the wind," Elida said. "It's how he can fly without wings—he simply rides on the wind as though it were an animal. He can call up a breeze or a tornado at a moment's notice, and he can make the breeze pierce one through the flesh and the tornado gently cushion someone's fall."

Bomberman felt the food that he'd managed to eat quickly run suicides inside the walls of his stomach. He had never dealt with wind attacks before, and hadn't even thought about the possibility through all of his training at Bomber Base. Fire and ice and and whips and laser cannons and robotic spiders and half-cybernetic wannabe galactic dictators? Okay, fine, he could handle all of those. But wind? Wind was invisible. How was he ever going to dodge an attack he couldn't see coming? The only consolation he had now was that at least he had the night to mull it over.

"To be honest, though," Elida continued after swallowing a piece of meat, "I don't believe anyone really knows the full extent of Ashtarth's abilities. When he killed those shamans...I heard that he said it was a tame death for them compared to what he _could_ do." She bit her lip. "I would not doubt that Ashtarth's strengths are more than what we can comprehend, but to say such a thing...that could not have truly been him."

Bomberman nodded absently, more from not knowing what to say rather than from any real agreement.

"Bomberman, your name was? Forgive me for impressing on you like this, but...please try to save Ashtarth."

The already-unappetizing dinner got even more disgusting as Bomberman swallowed his current bite.

Elida smiled regretfully. "You don't know him," she muttered, her voice soft as feathers. "You have no obligation to him, or to anyone here for that matter. But you seem like a good person. You'll try to save him, won't you?"

Bomberman tried to smile reassuringly, but only felt his mouth press itself into a tight line as he said, "You didn't need to ask. It was already on my list from the start. But..." He let out a controlled breath and looked away. "I can't do anything except promise to try my best. I...I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you."

The air around the two turned wintry cold. Whether it was just Bomberman's imagination or from any magickal powers that Elida might have had was unclear. Still, it was obvious that the young woman was far from pleased. She took a shuddering breath. "Right," she said slowly. "Right...of course." Elida stood up, taking her plate and almost knocking over her goblet in the process. "Forgive me for bothering your mealtime." She walked off.

Bomberman resisted the urge to smack his head into his plate. He was willing to fix anything and everything that he could, but life _really_ wasn't giving him much to work with here!


	22. Horizon: Lord of the Winds

Bomberman settled into his designated guest room with a churning stomach that wasn't even half-full. The bath he took soon after being shown to the room, while certainly more luxurious than what he was used to, did nothing to ease his anxieties either. He was glad, however, that he was able to change out of his sweatshirt and jeans in exchange for a fresh set of sleeping clothes provided in a wooden chest at the foot of the bed. A servant took his dirty clothes away to be washed, and Bomberman fell asleep, or attempted to at least.

Morning brought that same servant knocking at his door. She held in her arms a new set of clothes, as well as a small basin and a pitcher of water for Bomberman to wash up with. Bomberman thanked her and took the items.

Pommy popped out of his egg, sending pieces of pink-spotted eggshell shards across the floor. "Myu? Morning already?"

"Sad to say." Bomberman plopped down onto the bed and examined his new clothes. They were in a style that he'd seen on a number of males around Philomel: loose pants that reached down to the middle of his calves, a long-sleeved shirt, and a tunic that went over both of them. The pants and shirt were both white, and the tunic was a rich blue. There was also a brown sash of a slightly thicker fabric, probably a belt, and a pair of tan sandals. Upon closer inspection, Bomberman found that there were two white wings embroidered on the back of the tunic, and he smirked. "Nothing like being too careful in times like these," he remarked, swiftly pulling off his nightshirt and proceeding to change.

Pommy squeaked and dove back into the remnants of his shell. "Myu!" he snapped. "Bomberman should warn Pommy before he gets indecent like that!"

Once Bomberman had freshened up, changed, and laced up his sandals, he took Tereus' Shackles and fitted them around his ankles. The shackles sparkled with power as they locked into place. To Bomberman's dismay, he found that his new clothes had no pockets that he could use to stash his remote control in, and he refused to leave it behind going into a fight that he had no clue about. A search of his room revealed nothing that he could use to modify into a holder for the remote. It was then that the servant returned to check up on him, and Bomberman requested thread, a needle, and a few scraps of fabric from her. When she brought the items to him, Bomberman sat down and hastily stitched together a makeshift holder-pocket for the remote on his right thigh. It was a solution that had more drawbacks than he cared to think about, considering that he really had no particular skill with sewing, but it was better than nothing. With that done, he and Pommy headed down for breakfast.

"Ah, Bomberman." Draegaria's voice swooshed through the air while Bomberman and Pommy were halfway through their breakfast. "Were your quarters comfortable?" At Bomberman's nod, she inquired, "Is there anything else you need?"

Bomberman was about to say no, but then he remembered that he was still sorely lacking in intelligence about Ashtarth. He asked Draegaria about it, relating what Elida had told him the night before.

"What she says is nothing less than the truth," Draegaria said simply. "Ashtarth is a master of the winds. He proved that admirably the first time he took the tests to become our Channeler all those years ago. And that is along with mastering some of the most potent spells of our tribe's magick." She sighed. "Still, nothing could have prepared me for what he did to those shamans." She gave Bomberman a resigned look. "I do not know what to tell you or how to warn you. For all the time that he has resided in Philomel, Ashtarth is still a mystery to us. I can only give you my blessing and the blessing of my people."

"It's fine," Bomberman said, feeling like it was anything but. "I'll figure out something."

"When you are finished with your breakfast," Draegaria said, "I will be waiting at the entrance on the ground floor with some of the members of the Mandala. We will accompany you to Procne's shrine to confront Ashtarth."

Bomberman nodded.

"Myuuu." Pommy tugged on the bottom of Bomberman's tunic. "Is Bomberman going to eat his last piece of bread?"

B-O-M-B

Draegaria offered to ferry Bomberman and Pommy over to the shrine, like she initially had the first time they'd visited the palace, but Bomberman declined under the premise of warming up using his new abilities. He asked whether it was at all possible for him to reach the shrine by foot—relatively speaking, of course.

Draegaria looked surprised and slightly worried. "I suppose it could be possible, though I've never seen it done." She spread her wings and flew up into the air, surveying the path they would be traveling. "It is possible," she confirmed. "But some of the jumps you will have to make are quite wide. This does not disturb you?"

Truth be told, Bomberman was starting to second-guess himself, but he shook it off. "I'll survive. I did a fair amount of practice yesterday, but a little more won't hurt."

"Are you absolutely positive you wish to meet with Ashtarth now? You have been here barely a day, and you have had only a few hours to learn how to use the shackles..." Bomberman waved her off. "Well, and so. Then follow us the best that you can." She motioned to the four Mandala members that were with her, which included Ridaye and Rai. Yedari was present with three others, a man and two women, that Bomberman assumed to be a part of Draegaria's shamanic knights or guards or whatever they'd been called. All of them soared up and over the palace, heading north.

Bomberman held onto Pommy and followed after Draegaria by leaping up the sides of the palace, which earned him startled looks from below. Upon reaching the roof, he watched as the flock of avian humans headed for a floating mountain some distance away. Between that and where he stood on the palace roof were a number of islands and floating debris that he could potentially use as stepping stones. "Well, hold onto tight, marshmallow," he said to Pommy. "It's going to be a hell of a ride." And he leapt.

The feeling of jumping entire distances with just a thought was liberating beyond anything he could've imagined. Bomberman had known it was impressive just from his time practicing in the temple ruins, but to use it on such a grand scale was staggering. But he managed to keep his focus on his literal island-hopping. Pommy grasped painfully at Bomberman's forearms in fear; Bomberman ignored that in favor of making sure he could find footholds.

Bomberman eventually caught up to Draegaria by orienting himself to the side of the floating mountain and then scaling up to where he had seen her land, which was something that looked like it had once been a bridge leading into the mountain. The mountain entrance itself was lined with stone brick and torches with green flames. Primal, simple drawings of a rather violent narrative were carved into the walls and tinted with dark colors. On the ground lay an assorted array of things that ranged from dishes of dried fruit to extinguished candles to animal bones.

Yedari was frowning when Bomberman arrived at the entrance. "I mislike this," he said, holding out a hand glimmering with silver. "There used to be a shield around the entrance that shut out visitors and thus forced them to leave the traditional offerings to Procne here instead of inside. But I can sense nothing now, and I know not why."

Bomberman knew why.

The group made their way into the shrine of Procne, located deep within the heart of the floating mountain. It was a massive cavern, with a high, arched ceiling from which stalactites hung. On either side of the shrine were two staircases that led up to a mezzanine, which in turn led out into the open sky, a yawning mouth of divinity. Just below the mezzanine, a ceremonial flame flared up from a long rectangular trough, providing a soothing contrast to the cool winds that blew in from the outside. Kneeling in meditation on the brick floor, calm as a statue, was a young man clad in clothes of a humble style. A braid of rich green hung down his back.

Draegaria stepped forward. "Ashtarth." He didn't move. She continued. "I am here to negotiate with you. You have committed grave crimes against Philomel, crimes for which we can find no justification. Despite that...we wish to pardon you and give you a chance to explain yourself, as our Channeler." She motioned to Bomberman. "Here is Bomberman, an outsider whose strength is such that he destroyed the guardians of the Square, and has earned the right to wear Tereus' Shackles. If you do not agree to a peaceful discussion of your transgressions, you will fight him. Should you win, we shall agree to your terms. Should you lose, you shall submit to our terms. That is, to confess your crimes before the Mandala and to accept the judgment we pass upon you for what you have done."

There was a soft chuckle as Ashtarth rose to his feet. He turned around, acknowledging Draegaria, Bomberman, and those behind them with a nasty sneer and a burning gaze of bright orange eyes, like the ceremonial fire. "You presume too much, my gentle queen, to think that _you_ can pass judgment upon _me_, your beloved Channeler," he said. "_I_ will be the only one passing judgment here, and"—at this he smiled even wider—"it will be upon your valiant bomber knight."

"Myu," Pommy grumbled. "Why's Bomberman the knight? Pommy wants to be knight!"

Ashtarth strode smoothly towards Bomberman, who met his gaze head-on. "But perhaps I'm too hasty in calling you such," he said, amusedly sizing Bomberman up from head to foot. "You may look like a knight...but we've yet to see if you'll act like one."

"You're one to talk about acting like a knight, Mr. I-Slaughtered-Seven-Shamans-For-Sunday's-Dinner," Bomberman responded calmly.

Some of the Mandala members winced, expecting a gale-filled backlash.

But Ashtarth only laughed. "And so he opens his mouth to confirm what was once merely suspected!" He grinned deliriously and threw his arms out to his sides. A powerful cyclone exploded from around Ashtarth, sending everyone else in the vicinity flying aside. In that same instant, his clothes glowed emerald, re-forming themselves into cybernetic green armor that was more worthy of an Astral Knight of the BHB Army. As Bomberman struggled to get to his feet, Ashtarth levitated up, back, and onto the mezzanine into a swirl of air. "I know you don't care to give up the Stones that you hold," he said, "but it's no matter—taking them from you will be much more fun." He gestured to Bomberman. "Come then, knight of the Sky Queen! I am Ashtarth, the one called Lord of the Winds...let's see what you can do!" He flew out.

Bomberman scowled. _Let's see what I can do, he says,_ he thought. _If my luck from earlier fights holds, it's not going to be anything pretty_. He sprinted up the nearest staircase to the mezzanine, leaving Pommy, Draegaria, and the rest behind.

As Bomberman bounded down the stairs leading from the back entrance of the mezzanine, the ruins of another temple, majestic and austere in polished granite, came into view in the distance. Its curved roof had long since detached from the rest of the structure, and it hung at an angle high in the air, cracked down the middle but not quite separated. The floor and foundation were split into several jagged pieces that floated in a poor imitation of what the temple grounds had once looked like. The remnants of carved columns and decorational additions haunted the air around the temple, along with a number of platforms whose function wasn't immediately apparent to Bomberman.

The briefest flash of green disappeared into the strange mist that surrounded the ruins. Bomberman broke into a run, then leapt the entire distance to the temple. _Fwoooooosh-fmp!_ He swished through the haze, landing sideways on a pillar that was fortunate enough to still be intact on one of the floor fragments, though it creaked slightly with Bomberman's landing. Bomberman looked around him, simultaneously admiring the ancient mystique of the ruins, which was further emphasized by the mist that filtered the bright morning sun, and scanning the area for a certain someone.

"Like it?"

The words swept past Bomberman with the next gust of wind that blew. He glanced up to see Ashtarth standing atop another column opposite to him, arms crossed.

"It used to be where the Channeler would summon Procne into this dimension once a cycle so that the tribe could be reassured of the guardian's presence and blessing," Ashtarth explained. "The feat requires invoking Procne's essence into one's own body—hence the title 'Channeler'. But the rather inept handling of such a delicate matter a couple of centuries before my time resulted in the Channeler losing control of Procne's power and thus reducing the temple to its current state." The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smirk. "I, of course, would never have made such an amateur mistake."

"So you _are_ controlling Procne!" Bomberman growled.

"What's it to you if I am?" Ashtarth shot back. "We're both outsiders by tribal standards, but _you've_ got no business here."

"On the contrary," Bomberman snapped, forming a bomb in his hand, "I've got all the business in the galaxy here, and you can ask her Majesty if you don't believe me!" He flung the bomb in Ashtarth's direction, but within the blink of an eye, the Astral Knight had vanished, and the bomb missed his afterimage by an inch. _Teleportation...?_ Bomberman wondered. He trotted up the side of the column, then perched himself at the top, trying to see where Ashtarth could be.

"Behind you."

Bomberman hadn't even turned around—

"Breathbreaker!"

_FWWWSSSH-__**POW!**_

Something akin to an invisible battering ram exploded into Bomberman's back, sending him flying right off the column. But the shackles ensured that, instead of slamming face-first into the ground, he landed (rather painfully) on his feet on the side of the column he'd just fallen off of. Still, the force of the attack left Bomberman wheezing and sputtering.

Ashtarth hovered sideways to match Bomberman's current orientation. "Well, well, Sir Bomberman," he sneered, glancing at Bomberman's feet. "So you _have_ gotten your hands on Tereus' Shackles. I thought her Highness was just bluffing. Shall I ask how you managed to convince her to hand those over?"

"In a lot more honorable of a way than you got your Wind Stone, I bet!" Bomberman threw another bomb at Ashtarth.

_BOOM!_

Ashtarth was blasted from the air and onto the floor below. He had just recovered when Bomberman came barreling down at him with a superbomb in hand. Ashtarth hovered up and out of the way, then held out two green-glowing hands. "Tornado Beam!" he shouted.

_FWOOOSH!_

Bomberman's eyes widened. He tossed the bomb aside, then backflipped onto the column again. The deadly winds pounded a crater right into the floor where he'd been standing not two second ago, throwing up sharp debris. _Holy crap,_ he thought, holding up an arm to shield himself. _That's how powerful his wind attacks are...?_

"You seem a little disconcerted!" Ashtarth called. "Not to worry, it'll blow over soon!"

A small cyclone zoomed past Bomberman, causing him to nearly lose his balance. He switched to ice bombs, caught the roof in his sights, caught the roof in his sights, and oriented himself to it. _SWOOOSH!_ He tumbled heels over head into the air and tossed two ice bombs at Ashtarth as he passed by, detonating them with his remote.

_KA-BLAAMM!_

As Bomberman landed in a crouch on the roof, upside-down, he saw Ashtarth engulfed in an ice cloud below him. He threw down a couple of fire bombs; none of them appeared to hit their mark. Bomberman geared up to toss a superbomb when Ashtarth suddenly emerged from the mist, covered in frost but otherwise alive and well.

_FWOOOSH!_

Ashtarth zoomed straight for Bomberman and—from a distance—slammed him back-first into the ceiling with a burst of concentrated air.

_WHAM!_

Before Bomberman could even catch his breath, Ashtarth had caught up to him and pinned him to the ceiling by his neck, choking him. Bomberman snarled and shoved Ashtarth off with a foot to his abdomen. He followed it up with four successive fire bombs, but they were deflected by a well-timed force field. _Dammit!_ he thought, gritting his teeth as he chased down Ashtarth along the ceiling. _His attacks are strong but invisible, he's fast as light, he can do freakin' magick of all things...how the hell am I supposed to bring him down?_ Bomberman's fingers twitched as they called up another explosive.

Ashtarth whirled around, his glowing palm ready to unleash another attack. "Wind Shards!"

The swirling winds crashed into an incoming ice superbomb, enveloping the immediate vicinity in another frosty shroud.

_KA-BLAM!_

Ashtarth swung out an arm to clear the air with a blast of wind...and caught sight of Bomberman sailing straight for him.

"HAAH!" Bomberman caught Ashtarth's upper torso in the crook of his arm, then—using the momentum of his flight—did a 360-degree turn and hurled Ashtarth headlong onto a floating platform below.

_SLA-MASH!_

The impact of Ashtarth's body rattled the platform, causing the stone benches that were on it to fall over. Bomberman touched down on one of the benches, flipped back up again, and tossed a fire superbomb at Ashtarth. _BOOM!_ He oriented himself to the side of a higher platform as he waited for the blast to die down, rubbing sore spots on his body in the meantime.

Amidst the fading smoke, Ashtarth managed to pick himself off the ground, dusted in stone chunks and soot. Parts of his armor were starting to distort, presumably from the heat of the bombs. He cracked his neck and shook out his body before turning around to meet Bomberman's eyes. "You're a fair challenge, I must admit," he said, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "Still..." He grinned. "You'll meet the abyss soon enough!" He swung an arm upwards.

_WHOOSH!_ A large chunk of stone sailed at Bomberman, propelled by a gust of magickal wind.

"Ack!" Bomberman scrambled to the top of the platform he was on to avoid being knocked off. He was about to retaliate with a bomb when Ashtarth hurled another large piece of debris into the bottom of the platform. But the shackles caused Bomberman to land right underneath the platform...and in clear sight of Ashtarth's annoyed glance.

"Feh!" Ashtarth called up a miniature cyclone around a clenched fist. "I'll tear those damned shackles off you if I have to rip off your feet to do so! Wind Shear!"

Bomberman just barely avoided being sliced by the attack by orienting himself to the roof again. In a burst of air, Ashtarth followed after him. As soon as Ashtarth had landed, Bomberman whirled around with an ice bomb, but Ashtarth slid swiftly out of the way before zooming at Bomberman and backhanding him aside.

_WHAM!_

Bomberman slammed into what had once been the top of a pillar supporting the temple roof. Dazed and stunned on his back, he tossed two fire bombs at an incoming Ashtarth, then oriented himself to one of the floor fragments far down below. Ashtarth managed to intercept him midway, however, and Bomberman was forced to play hopscotch around the floor fragments, attempting to distract Ashtarth with ice or smoke bombs to give himself a chance to catch a breath. He got his chance when Ashtarth actually slipped on a patch of ice on one of the floor fragments. Bomberman tossed a fire superbomb at him, then made his way to the furthest side of the temple. He slid into the shadows of one of the still-standing columns, oriented to its side.

"You won't be able to run for long!" Ashtarth mocked, his voice echoing softly from a distance. "The winds will find you!"

_I'll be able to run for long enough,_ Bomberman thought, rubbing at his face where Ashtarth had smacked him. He mentally reviewed his situation. He'd managed to wear down Ashtarth a little at least, but Bomberman attributed those instances to pure luck. In addition to Ashtarth's formidable wind element, his seeming penchant for either super-speed or teleportation (Bomberman couldn't tell which) most likely meant that any hand-to-hand combat would only be good in short spurts. Though he hadn't yet identified a weakness in Ashtarth's style to exploit, Bomberman took mild solace in the fact that Tereus' Shackles prevented the Astral Knight from knocking him into the sky below. But such a blessing was less than nothing if he couldn't make use of it. _Well, I suppose the only way to figure out something is to keep on flailing._ Bomberman charged a superbomb, turned to walk back out into the open...and came face-to-face with Ashtarth.

There was a pause as each fighter realized who was standing before him.

"Yaah!" Bomberman flung the superbomb.

"Tornado Beam!" Ashtarth yelled.

_KA-__**BLAAAMM!**_

The combined force of the elemental powers sent Bomberman and Ashtarth flying in opposite directions. Bomberman slammed into the column he'd been hiding behind, cracking it in half. It—along with Bomberman—collapsed onto the floor fragment that the column had been standing upon.

Meanwhile, Ashtarth sailed straight through the outer wall of a nearby building that Bomberman hadn't noticed before. _CR-CRASSSSHHH!_ His body left an impressive hole in the crumbling stone brick.

Bomberman got to his feet, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his back. _I swear, my spine needs to be replaced with a titanium steel implant or something for all the abuse it's getting..._ After a few moments to catch his breath _again_, he oriented himself to the outside wall of the structure. He leaned over and tossed a few fire bombs inside the newly-created hole, then scrambled away before setting them off.

_BOOOMMM!_

The explosion blew an even bigger hole in the wall, rattling the bricks beneath Bomberman's feet with the shockwave. Once the smoke died down, he cautiously peered inside.

There was no sign of Ashtarth.

Bomberman frowned. He conjured a bomb as he carefully made his way over to the hole and just as carefully hopped inside. Bomberman looked around, but he saw nothing as far as he could tell. "Who's running now, you bastard?" Bomberman called.

"You," Ashtarth said as he stepped out of invisibility with a ripple of magick. "Squall Hammer!"

Four successive blasts of wind sent Bomberman sprawling into a patch of darkness and skidding along the rough floor. Upon coming to a stop, he closed his eyes and tossed a flash bomb behind him both to temporarily blind Ashtarth and to see his way out. With the five seconds of light that the flash bomb afforded him, Bomberman saw a long corridor ahead of him, at the end of which he could make a right turn. He left behind four fire bombs to thwart a possible pursuit by Ashtarth, then oriented himself to the wall at the end of the corridor.

_Fwwwwsh-fwmp!_

A soft light source from somewhere to his top left illuminated another wall that Bomberman oriented himself to before bouncing off it and hitting the ground running. He immediately saw where the light had been coming from: part of the floor ahead had fallen away, leaving a wide gap to traverse. Bomberman smirked. _No problem, I'll just use the walls to—_

_FWOOOSH!_ Ashtarth blurred into existence right in front of him, blocking the way.

Bomberman couldn't stop himself in time. "Son-of-a—"

_WHAM!_

The two tumbled over each other down the hall. Ashtarth landed upside-down against one of the walls; Bomberman ended up hanging from the edge of the gap with a single arm. He grunted as he tried to swing himself up to get a hold of the edge with his other arm, with no luck.

Ashtarth had managed to get to his feet and walk over to Bomberman. "In a bit of a pinch, aren't we?" he said. He raised a shimmering hand. "Not to worry, I'll help you out!"

"Thanks, but no thanks!" Bomberman flung an ice bomb at Ashtarth—_KA-BLAM!—_that froze the Astral Knight to the ground, then oriented himself to the ceiling and made his escape over the gap that way. But it wasn't long before he heard Ashtarth break out of his frozen prison and chase after him, flying on the winds. Bomberman dodged the latter part of a Wind Shards attack by orienting himself to the wall on his right, and evaded a cyclone by hopping over to the left wall. He charged a fire superbomb, then swiveled around in mid-sprint and hurled it at Ashtarth. Ashtarth managed to fling up a last-minute force field again, but the strength of the explosion sent him sailing backwards into the right-side wall. Bomberman followed after him—a move he quickly regretted.

It was even darker here than it was previously, though there seemed to be a few weak, pale strings of light that floated up from apparent gaps in the floor or hung down from a currently invisible ceiling. But more disturbing than the thick shadows was the sour, sharp smell of decay, something that Bomberman was intimately familiar with from his years of fieldwork for Bomber Base. He wiped away the tears brought on by the overpowering stench and stifled a sneeze. He was about to turn and escape when Ashtarth blurred in front of him to block his path once again, scorched and annoyed.

"How apropos," Ashtarth drawled, a burnt eyebrow twitching. "You'll meet your end in the Crying Crypts."

Bomberman didn't want to ask how the place got its name. "Much as I'd like to send you crying to these crypts right now," he said, carefully breathing through his mouth, "I'd still prefer to do things in a less messier way."

"Oh? And what do you suggest?"

"Just listen to Draegaria and agree to go along with her, that's all. Everyone's going to be the better for it."

Ashtarth laughed. "You're quite entertaining in your silly demands, you know," he said. "I'd rather die than forfeit a chance to protect my Elemental!"

This time Bomberman was quicker. He threw a punch at Ashtarth's face, sending him stumbling aside. Bomberman then grabbed one of Ashtarth's arms and twisted it behind his back, pinning the Astral Knight to a wall and actually eliciting a strangled yelp of pain from him. "Asshole!" Bomberman hissed. "These were your people! You were their Channeler! Why would you just turn on them like this and betray all the trust that you had gained from them?"

"Because—!" And all of a sudden Ashtarth seemed genuinely confused. "Y-yeah..." he stuttered. "Why _would_ I turn on them...?"

Bomberman waited quietly for an answer, though he too was perplexed: he hadn't expected Ashtarth to actually think about the question. Was it possible that he'd finally made a breakthrough in the stubborn mindset of an Astral Knight?

But Ashtarth snapped out of his thoughtful stupor. "Ignorant mortal!" he snarled, breaking Bomberman's hold on him with a blast of magickal power. "I serve Master Rukifellth as one of his Astral Knights! Everything I do is for his glory, and his alone!" Wind churned around him as his aura shimmered emerald. "Breathbreaker!"

_Well, that asks more questions than it answers,_ Bomberman mentally grumbled as he staggered out of the way of the attack, his muscles tingling in a highly unpleasant manner from Ashtarth's magick. He tossed out another flash bomb as he ended up stumbling onto the floor, his legs suddenly giving out on him.

Illuminated was a vast room of umber stone tiles and beige bricks, all streaked with dark stains of a dubious nature. Thick segmented pillars rose up from the floor into what was most likely the roof. There was a second level that snaked around the perimeter, though Bomberman couldn't make out any more details from his vantage point. What he _could_ make out, however, were piles of skeletons and shriveled corpses dotting the ground level. Bomberman soon realized he was sitting not twelve inches from such a pile. He jerked away in disgust, and the last of the flash bomb faded away, leaving him in the dark once again.

Bomberman got to his feet as fast as he could and speedwalked deeper into the crypt. The crunch of something nasty exploded softly from under his foot; he tried not to think about what it was he stepped on. _I can't see a damn thing in here!_ he complained to himself. _I guess that means Ashtarth probably can't see anything either...unless that magick of his lets him see in the dark..._

"Wind Shards!"

Guided by instincts honed from training, Bomberman spun around and met the attack with a fire bomb.

_BOOM!_

Part of the floor suddenly broke away from the explosion's shockwave. The resulting hole leaked enough light for Bomberman to see Ashtarth standing on the other side. On either side of the Astral Knight were two floating corpses, not quite skeletons but well on their way to such a pitiable state. Large metal cuffs hung from emaciated arms, threatening to rip the appendages off the corpses by their sheer size in comparison to what they clamped onto.

Bomberman did a double-take. _Wait a minute, floating corpses...?_

"Hah!" Ashtarth swung his arms forward.

_FWOOOSH!_

The bodies swished through the dusty air, aided by Ashtarth's winds.

Bomberman dropped to the ground. The cadavers crashed into something solid some distance away, landing with heavy thuds. By the time Bomberman got to his feet, Ashtarth was gone again. Shifting bones and the hiss of wind alerted Bomberman to another imminent attack. He charged a superbomb as fast as he could, took a couple of steps to the side, and threw the bomb in the general direction of the sounds.

_BOOOMMM!_

The explosion took out a significant portion of the floor this time. Some of the bones and cadavers fell away with the floor, and there was now enough light to move comfortably in the immediate vicinity. Bomberman spotted Ashtarth across the way, surrounded by clumps of mouldering bones and individual body parts still decorated with flesh. He flung more bombs, but Ashtarth either dodged or deflected with a well-aimed toss of a bone or two. Switching tactics, Bomberman oriented himself to the wall behind Ashtarth, practically clotheslining him along the way.

_WHAM!_

As soon as Bomberman landed on the wall, he readied an ice bomb. He was poised to toss it when Ashtarth retaliated with a whirling tornado. The winds caught Bomberman in their grasp, tossing him to and fro before vomiting him high into a pillar. Aching and stunned from yet another blow, Bomberman nevertheless regained his senses long enough to at least orient himself to the pillar before breaking out into a stumbling sort of run straight up its side. He prepared to blast a hole in the roof to escape, but Ashtarth—who had rapidly gained on him in the meantime—ensnared him in a second tornado that hurled him straight through the ceiling.

Bomberman's entire body exploded with pain as he flew up and out into the misty air. He was dimly aware of Ashtarth sneering up at him as Ashtarth leveled another wind attack in his direction, sending him even further up. There was a blur of green, and then a third blast of air that made its mark squarely in Bomberman's back. Bomberman landed on his side, cracks blooming in the roof around him, and he curled up in pure agony, resisting the urge to scream obscenities.

Ashtarth touched down in a considerably more graceful manner, the winds swirling around his feet. "It's been quite a fun ride," he began. His aura glowed bright green around him once again, but this time it seemed to be faintly streaked with orange. "But I can't play around forever!" He let out a long string of laughter. "Now see why I earned the title of 'Channeler'!"

The winds roared maddeningly around Bomberman and pushed him backwards as he dragged himself to a barely-kneeling position. He risked a glance over his shoulder; foggy sky awaited him down below. Not encouraged by this sight, he risked a glance in front of him.

Much to Bomberman's surprise and horror, a ghostly version of Procne was curled behind Ashtarth, her wings spread. If he wasn't hallucinating (and he wasn't about to disregard the possibility in this situation), it almost seemed as though Ashtarth's body was taking on a partially human version of the divine avian, his facial features elongating to aquiline sharpness, his outstretched arms starting to morph into wings. The Astral Knight yelled out something in a language Bomberman knew he shouldn't have been able to understand, and yet understood completely.

"Say hello to the afterworld, mortal!" Ashtarth traced a glowing glyph in the air in front of him and thrust his palms to it.

Procne's ghostly self suddenly disintegrated into fine particles of light that were siphoned straight into the glyph, saturating it with power. A moment's pause...and monstrously violent winds exploded from the glyph and soared towards Bomberman like birds of prey, leaving a trail of thick dust and magickal artifacts in their wake.

_WHOOOOSSSH!_

When the air cleared, Bomberman was gone.

Ashtarth collapsed to the ground, panting, having reverted back to his normal form. He took a shuddering breath and rubbed the sweat from his face. Slowly, the beginnings of a triumphant smile tugged at Ashtarth's mouth. He stumbled over to where Bomberman had been. He stopped a few feet from the edge, then blurred over it.

The white-haired young man was nowhere to be found.

Ashtarth frowned. "He couldn't have actually been thrown off the roof, could he?" he pondered. "The shackles should have kept him anchored to the building, and there's not another foothold on this side that he could've landed on besides this." He blinked as something unsettling began to dawn on him. "I didn't hear him scream," he realized. "If something like that last attack had hit him, he'd have screamed and I'd have heard it. That means..."

"It wasn't flying—it was falling with style," came Bomberman's icy response as he stepped out from his hiding place: a decorative bird statue that had been just around the corner.

Ashtarth glared. "You...!"

A fire superbomb exploded in Ashtarth's face before he could finish his sentence. He was sent flying up onto the roof again and landed face-first.

With the last of his strength reserves, Bomberman sprinted up after him. He planted one knee firmly into Ashtarth's back, then yanked Ashtarth's head back by pulling on his braid with one hand and held a sharp piece of stone—a piece of the bird statue's wing—to Ashtarth's throat with the other. "Game over," said Bomberman.

A soft laugh. "Is it really, now?" Ashtarth asked. "You are a powerful warrior, to be sure, but do you have the fortitude of heart to follow through to true victory?"

Bomberman only pressed the makeshift stone blade harder to Ashtarth's neck.

"Heh." Ashtarth coughed slightly. "I'm stubborn, but I'm no fool; I know when I've lost a fight. There'll be no need for you to do such a thing." He sighed. "As outlined in her Highness' terms, I shall stand before the Mandala and answer for what I've done." He chuckled. "Assuming I'll be able to stand, that is."

"I'm not letting you up until I know you're not going to pull anything funny," Bomberman warned.

"Ah. Well, what would be the point in doing something funny for someone with no sense of humor?" Ashtarth's eyes flashed white. "That said, I'll just leave you with this."

On the other side, a glyph sent up a column of light. Emerging from the light was a crescent-shaped green gem, which floated patiently in mid-air.

Bomberman started to get up, then thought better of it. "This is your Elemental Stone?"

Ashtarth nodded. "You might wish to take it before I change my mind, bomber."

Bomberman let go of Ashtarth, but he chose to edge backwards toward the Elemental Stone, keeping a careful eye on the Astral Knight. When he was within arm's reach of the Stone and reasonably sure that Ashtarth wasn't going to pounce on him, Bomberman snatched the Elemental from the air.

_FWOOOOSSSSHH!_

The stone suddenly burst into innumerable pieces with Bomberman's touch, trapping him where he stood in a dome of glittering emerald shards and furious gales. He shut his eyes and held up his arms to protect his face from being sliced to ribbons. "Wh-what the hell is this?" he demanded.

Ashtarth's last mocking words seemed to roar from the winds themselves, echoing in Bomberman's head. "The Elemental Stones are the reason the BHB Army exists! Did you think I'd give mine up so easily?" A sharp, throaty cackle. "You may have defeated me...but it is _I_ who shall have the last laugh!"

Bomberman couldn't even move now; the trap had closed in on him, cutting into his arms, his legs, his back. He could feel his clothes being torn to pieces. Bomberman tried to pull together what remained of his coherent thoughts, but he only had a vision of himself unraveling into a gloppy pile of hashed skin and muscle dusted with pulverized bone. And if he waited a minute longer, he knew that was what he'd end up as.

_Someone...anyone..._

_**Help me please...**_

Crimson and cerulean flared brightly in the back of his mental vision. Bomberman had the sudden sensation of dissipating beyond himself, beyond the trap, but the pain that continued to pepper his system like miniature explosions assured him that he was still firmly rooted in his body. He suddenly felt a comforting warmth and a refreshing coolness surround him, mixing together but never melding into lukewarmth.

There was a soft puff of air from all sides. The crystal shards that had been slicing into him rained to the ground, creating a delicate symphony of clatters.

Bomberman didn't even wait to hit the ground before he blacked out.


	23. Horizon: Marked For Murder

"Fifty civilians were also killed in Dartwood on Thantos after resisting our forces," a man in a black uniform intoned. "None of our own were lost, although a few sustained minor injuries. They are currently being treated in the Noah's hospital wing and are expected to be back on duty within the day."

Rukifellth sat in the captain's chair of the Noah's bridge as he listened to one of his high-ranking officers give the weekly report from the lowest floor. He was reclined slightly, with a disinterested gaze. He held his sword—a slender, crystalline rapier—loosely in his right hand, tapping it gently on the ground. His head was tilted to the side, with his chin resting on the back of his left hand. The overall effect was that of an unstable monarch ready to unhinge himself at a moment's whim. "I assume your men are working to extinguish any remaining sparks of rebellion?"

"Assumed correctly, sir. We are also tightening security on the other planets as well. We have noted that tendencies to rebel have increased on the planets that no longer have one of your Astral Knights to overlook matters."

"As to be expected." Rukifellth rubbed his brow, wondering why he suddenly had a headache. It couldn't have anything to do with having had to listen to this officer's nasally voice for at least an hour, could it? "Still, as long as I am here, those peons have no cause to celebrate. Any word on the woman Lilith?"

A pause. "N-negative, sir."

Rukifellth hummed. "An elusive one, is she not?"

"Most certainly, sir."

"But the more elusive the chase, the sweeter the prize."

"Agreed, sir. I would certainly want her myself."

In one sharp movement, Rukifellth stood up and swung his sword in a downwards arc.

_SW-SWSSSH!_

A large blade of pure energy plunged from above and impaled the officer right through the top of his head.

"_You are not to touch her!"_ Rukifellth growled, a red-tinged black aura flaring up briefly around him. "_She is __**mine**__, understand?_"

The officer's only response was to flop onto the floor, blood pouring from his mouth and his head...as well as other places.

Rukifellth slowly sat back down, carefully tucking his cloak behind him. _Mortals are such messy, foul creatures,_ he mused. He vaguely wondered if he'd overreacted a bit. Annoying as the officer was, he had been very competent in his duties, as well as respected by both his underlings and the underlings of other officers. No matter—there were other qualified meatbags to take his place. Mortals were such pathetic, expendable creatures. With the exception of Lilith, that is. But Rukifellth only cared about the pirate in terms of her as Mihaele's choice for a mortal vessel. He was sorely tempted to let the goddess eventually assume full control over Lilith, and then snatch that away from her by mangling Lilith's body to unrecognizable pieces. Mihaele's reaction would almost be worth the risk of losing everything he had gained up until now.

_But let it not be said that I don't learn from my mistakes_, Rukifellth thought, smug. _After all, I'll soon be able to reclaim my earthly body. It's clear that the goddess never thought I'd be able to get this far._

After a silence, he spoke aloud. His voice echoed through the empty bridge, but in truth his words reached far beyond the metal shell of the Warship Noah. "Ashtarth has fallen," he said. "This Bomberman character is proving to be quite the pain in the backside."

Zoniha's signature laugh preceded her flashy teleportation into the bridge. "I always knew Ashtarth's bark was worse than his bite!" she quipped.

"It's been far too long since such a powerful adversary stood in our way," Molok said, taking his usual place in the center of the bridge's lowest level. "I never thought there'd be one—and a mortal, no less!—who could best three knights. Truly impressive."

"Indeed, he is powerful...possibly the most powerful person we will face yet," Bulzeeb said quietly, leaning against a back corner of the room with his arms crossed.

Zhael appeared beside him in a flash of lightning, though the suddenness of it didn't appear to faze Bulzeeb at all. "What's been with you lately?" she asked. "I've never seen you so...so...what's the word..."

"Paranoid?" Zoniha offered.

"Well...meek, maybe? It's just not like him to say something like that." Zhael seemed thoughtful. "But if Bulzeeb thinks Bomberman is strong, then Bomberman must be! Bulzeeb knows who he's dealing with."

"You're right, Zhael. I don't think I've ever heard him talk like he's talking now. Hell, the fact that he's actually talking says everything we need to know about this situation!" Zoniha tapped a finger to her chin. "Still, is this Bomberman really so powerful that he can take out three Astral Knights? It has to be luck of the draw. I mean, he looks like he just graduated from Jailbait Academy!"

"You're playing him down," Molok warned, "judging him by his appearance and not his deeds. One must be able to measure his enemy's strength honestly to have any chance of victory."

Zhael merely yawned upon Molok's words of wisdom. "Whatever. You seriously need to loosen up a bit. Of all the things you know, you still don't see to have any idea of how to relax. We're the next line of defense against Mr. Hot-Shot. It wouldn't be good to be tense." She smiled, confidence radiating from her like neon lights. "Though, if he comes to me first, there won't be anything left for you! _Ha!_"

"Would it be that were the case..." Bulzeeb murmured from under his visor.

The other three Astral Knights stared at Bulzeeb in wonder and bewilderment. "You really aren't yourself, are you?" Zhael asked, sounding like she was refraining from giggling hysterically.

"What's it to you if I'm not?" Bulzeeb defended a little too vehemently.

Zhael narrowed her eyes at him. "There's something about this Bomberman that's making you jumpy," she said. "Could it be that you..._know_...something about him?"

"Is that true?" Molok demanded, joining Zhael in glaring at Bulzeeb. "Don't keep secrets from us. Do you and Bomberman have a connection?"

"Spill it!" Zoniha added.

"I am merely interested in anyone who may prove to be a worthy opponent in battle," answered Bulzeeb. His voice was composed as always, but if anyone had been looking for it, they would have seen his fingers tighten ever so slightly on his arms as he continued. "The fact is that Bomberman has defeated three knights. Part of it may have been luck, but Fortuna wouldn't have had a chance to help him if he weren't significantly powerful already. Bomberman seems to to be someone I can match might and wits with...and someone I can ultimately defeat. That is all."

Zoniha giggled. "You need to get a life. As fun as fighting is, there's more to life than that! Although..." She gave Bulzeeb a flirtatious smile. "Maybe I shouldn't be bitching about this, not if it helps you beat the crap out of our enemies! Besides, the warrior prince persona is a sexy look for you."

"Enough of this chatter!" Rukifellth's voice startled everyone to attention. "Listen to me, my knights: I don't give a damn who carries out the job, but Bomberman _must_ be killed and the Stones he holds _must_ be taken! Run that whelp down or you'll be getting a taste of Darkwind like that pathetic little creature over there!"

It was only then that the knights noticed the officer's corpse sprawled at the base of the stairs leading up to the bridge's second level. "How sad," Zhael remarked, her voice liltingly bright. "Whatever did he do to deserve such a fate?"

"He was born," Rukifellth replied.

"I'll drink to that!" Zoniha said, laughing. "I knew the bastard—he'd been giving me lecherous looks ever since I first got on the Noah. Silly little mortal thought he could come even _close_ to being worthy of this Zoniha? The death you gave him was a tame one, for sure."

Rukifellth trained his eyes upon Zoniha, tapping his sword on the ground again. "Are you suggesting, my dear little lantern bug, that my actions are not pleasing to you?"

Zoniha quickly knelt in apology. "It was nothing of the sort, Master," she insisted, bowing her head. "I was...I was just saying that I would have done things differently, were the situation up to me...which it most certainly was not. I'm grateful to you for what you did."

"I did not do it for you," Rukifellth clarified, "but nonetheless, your gratitude is received with pleasure. You may leave, and you as well, Bulzeeb. Molok and Zhael, I need to talk to you two."

Bulzeeb and Zoniha nodded and disappeared. The two remaining knight gave each other uneasy looks. "Master Rukifellth," Zhael began meekly, "what is it you need to talk about?"

"Bomberman is an annoyance, to be sure," Rukifellth said, standing up. "He has three Stones in his grasp already, and the fact that he has defeated three Knights means that he is not to be underestimated. Nevertheless, the _true_ danger is that meddlesome Lilith woman, for Mihaele has already manifested herself within her." Rukifellth snapped his sword to the side to underscore his words. "Before dealing with Bomberman...you are to destroy Lilith!"

Molok and Zhael nodded in unison.

Rukifellth suddenly swayed forward, as though caught in the midst of a strong gale of wind. He caught himself on the control panel in front of him, but his arms were shaking violently. His breaths came out in spurts through clenched teeth.

"M-Master?" Molok said.

Zhael shrieked, rushing forward. "_Master Rukifellth!_"

Before Zhael had even reached the foot of the stairs, though, Rukifellth had spoken. "D-don't you..._dare_...hurt Lilith..." he rasped out. His fingers were attempting to dig into the metal of the control panel...and succeeding.

Zhael's face twisted in confusion and fury. "What do you mean, 'don't hurt Lilith'? Didn't you just give an order to kill her?"

"_You son-of-a-bitch!"_ Rukifellth continued, clutching at his hair. His eyes were impossibly wide with indignation. "Lay your dirty hands on Lilith, and I swear I'll—" But his last words were cut off as he fell back and landed on his chair, eyes closed. His hat flopped onto the floor.

Zhael sprinted up the stairs to check on Rukifellth, followed by Molok. "M-Master Rukifellth?" She shook him gently by the shoulder. "Master, are you all right? Say something, please!"

A low groan came from deep within Rukifellth's throat as he sat up again, perfectly composed now. "You needn't worry," he reassured the two flabbergasted Astral Knights, bending over to pick up his hat and put it back on. His normally blue eyes glinted deep red for the briefest of moments. "I just had to deal with a little voice in my head."

Molok scrunched his brow in disbelief. "Our leader is schizophrenic?"

Rukifellth chuckled. "My mental state is not the point at present. As I was saying, although Bomberman is proving to be a nuisance, it is Lilith who is the actual threat. Do not underestimate her, for even without the power of that tight-legged goddess, Lilith's half-demon abilities are not to be taken lightly. Do whatever you must to kill her, even if it means decimating an entire planet."

As Molok and Zhael left the bridge, Rukifellth smiled amusedly to himself. _Well, well, Rukifellth,_ he thought. _I hadn't expected your passion for the woman to be __**that**__ strong. Were such fervor channeled into more important things, you could have accomplished much with my direction and power behind you. A shame that it's too late for you to do anything now but watch the cosmic tragedy unfold._ He eyed the indentations he had made in the metal of the control panel. _And what would a cosmic tragedy be without tearing apart two soulmates?_

B-O-M-B

"I'd destroy Lilith regardless of whether she were my 'enemy' or not!" Zhael grumbled. Sparks seemed to fly from each of her steps as she stomped down the hall. She and Molok were now in the residential quarters of the Warship Noah, the two of them proceeding to retire to their respective rooms for a bit before returning to their planetary posts. "I won't have another woman take up valuable space in my Master Rukifellth's mind that should be reserved for me!" She smiled, her sadism painted across her face like make-up. "When I get my hands on that bitch, I'll make her beg for mercy—a mercy that shall be denied!"

Molok regarded Zhael's tirade with a paternal patience as he scratched his beard. "And what if you do?"

Zhael stopped in her tracks. "What do you mean?"

"Do you honestly think that, should you take down Lilith, the master will turn his attentions upon you?"

Zhael pouted, crossing her arms. "Why wouldn't he? Not only would I have removed a major obstacle to his plans, but I was here first, anyway!" She started to walk again, taking longer strides this time. "And I'm one of his Astral Knights, for crying out loud! Who the hell is Lilith? A nobody, that's who!"

Molok sighed. "Have you paid no attention at all to the master's words?" he called after her. "If Lilith were a nobody, the master would have had her throat sliced ages ago! No, she is important, and it is because the goddess Mihaele has chosen her as her avatar in this world."

"Pah!" Zhael had reached the door to her room already, but she leaned on the wall beside it to continue her conversation with Molok. "What can this goddess do? Why's Master Rukifellth so hung up on her, anyway?"

There was a contemplative pause on Molok's part. "You know," he began slowly, tilting his head up in thought, "I do believe that the master has never said anything about Mihaele up until recently. And he's not elaborated on her person besides naming her as an enemy."

Zhael smirked and snapped her fingers. "See? Nothing to worry about! If Lilith happens to wander into my territory, I'll fry her soul and serve her corpse at the casino buffet!" She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Though if she crosses your path first, would you mind leaving a fair amount for me to chew on later?"

Molok lowered his gaze to meet Zhael's. "For someone who esteems the master so highly...you appear to not trust in him too much."

Zhael's cheeks colored darkly. "Wh-what is _that_ supposed to mean?" she demanded, leveling a deadly glare.

"I mean," Molok explained, "that the master must have very good reasons for fearing the presence of Mihaele within Lilith, reasons that he has not chosen to confide in us just yet but which nonetheless compel him to enforce upon us the importance of having her destroyed. And you, in your childish jealousy, are not taking him seriously."

"_Of course I'm taking him seriously!_" Zhael raged. Her voice carried clear down the whole length of the hall. "It just so happens that his orders coincide with my own personal agenda, that's all!"

"Ah, but now it is not just about you carrying out his orders in orders to curry favor with him; there is something else factoring in. You've noticed how preoccupied he's been ever since he noticed the presence of this goddess, have you not? I am starting to suspect that, when faced with the prospect of dealing with her, we are nothing to him." A sagely smile. "Now why do you suppose that could be?"

_Z-ZZAPP!_ Zhael flung a pink lightning bolt at him.

Molok shielded by backstepping and raising a forearm to block with an earthen barrier. The bolt dissolved upon contact with the stone. "I'm not one for fortune-telling," he said, the barrier crumbling into tiny pebbles as he lowered his arm again, "but if I were to make a prediction, I would say that Lilith is going to be the end of you."

Zhael fired another bolt, which Molok miraculously managed to sidestep in a dignified manner. Foiled twice, Zhael merely scowled and yanked off her glove to unlock the door to her room. "Out of my sight, old man," she spat, slamming her hand against the palm reader. "I'm far too busy with other things to listen to your senile ramblings."

Molok only smiled as he continued further down the hall. "We're all senile here, it would seem," he said.


	24. Horizon: Survivor

Bomberman woke to the sensation of the midday sun threatening to burn a hole through his closed eyelids. Groaning, he turned his head and shifted to the side a little before painfully pulling himself up to a one-third-seated, two-thirds-reclined position. A wet washcloth slid off his forehead and to the floor.

He was back in his guest room at Draegaria's palace. He felt to be in better shape than he remembered from earlier...meaning that he wouldn't pass out from the pain in three seconds. (He estimated that he had at least thirty seconds to a minute now before blacking out again if he didn't focus his mind appropriately.) His torso, arms, and legs were wrapped tightly in a number of uncomfortable bandages. They smelled like some sort of herbs, perhaps even the same kind of herbs that his poultry dinner from last night had been stewed in. His old clothes, cleaned and mended, lay folded in a stack on a chair by the window, along with his remote control, which had miraculously survived the entire ordeal with mere scratches. The chest for Tereus' Shackles sat open on a dresser, with the said item nestled comfortably inside. And at the foot of the bed was...

"Myuuu! Bomberman's awake!" An ecstatic Pommy pounced on the now-awake Bomberman in relief. _FWUMP!_ "Pommy was so worried, because Bomberman was all bloody and not moving, but now Bomberman is awake and everything's okay!"

"Aaaagh!" Bomberman winced, but managed to lift a stiff arm to pat Pommy on the head. "Not so hard, I'm still sore!" He suddenly noticed the Elemental Stones piled up near his feet; judging from the eggshell pieces lying around them, he guessed that Pommy had been faithfully guarding them. _When—and __**how**__—did they come back?_ Bomberman wondered, bewildered. There were the familiar sunset tones of the Fire Stone, the sea blue of the Water Stone, and then...

"Pommy found those on the ground by Bomberman when Pommy and the queen and everyone came to help you," Pommy explained, bouncing gently on the bed. "So Pommy kept them safe for Bomberman! But what's the green stone? Pommy hasn't seen that one before!"

"It's the Wind Stone." _And undoubtedly the real deal, considering that Pommy was able to bring it back here without any dire consequences,_ Bomberman thought, bitterly remembering the fake Elemental that Ashtarth had thought to bestow upon him.

Speaking of whom, what _had_ happened to Ashtarth? He'd still been alive when Bomberman had gotten trapped within the magick of the fake Wind Stone. Could it be possible...that Draegaria or someone else had managed to...?

On cue, the bedroom door creaked open, and Draegaria stepped inside. Her robes were as regal and composed as ever, but a sheer white veil covered her face. "Yes, I realize that it's a highly blasphemous thing to do!" she called over her shoulder, irritated. "But our Channeler committed far worse crimes than overturning a couple of shrine effigies, and I doubt that Procne is in any condition to muster up offense at our intrusion. If you're so concerned, you have my full permission to join Yedari and his shamans to watch their every step!" She suddenly noticed Bomberman sitting up in his bed, and she closed the door behind her. "Oh, you're awake! I apologize if my cawing woke you up. How are you feeling?"

Bomberman shook out his arms a bit. _Ow._ He attempted to twist his body to the side. _OW._ "Still a bit sore, apparently," he said, "but I'll make it through."

Draegaria smiled, lifting up the veil to drape it over her hair instead. "Very good to hear. When my healers came to you, they weren't certain that you'd survive. But according to them, your body seemed to fix itself quite fast, and your wounds weren't as dire as they'd thought."

_Well, when you're part of a race that can make things go boom almost from birth, you kinda have to be born a little tougher than most_, Bomberman thought, mildly amused. "What about Ashtarth?"

Draegaria's smile disappeared. "We found Ashtarth lying near you on the roof of the Crying Crypts, in his usual tunic instead of that strange green thing he wore when he fought you. He had a ceremonial knife in his hand, one that the Channeler wears as a symbol of his or her status...as well as for other purposes." She sighed. "The healers have concluded that it looks like he attempted to gut himself in the traditional manner of self-destruction for Channelers, but he was overtaken by unconsciousness before he could complete the entire motion, and his body bled itself out."

_Figures._ Bomberman exhaled a frustrated breath and slammed his head back onto his pillow, barely registering the jolts of pain that motion earned him. _It really...damn...__**figures**_Irony had really decided to screw him over this time. Sure, now he was absolved of the technical guilt of Ashtarth's death, but Ashtarth had died anyway—and of a failed suicide of all things! What the hell kind of joke was the cosmos playing on him lately? Or was _he_ just becoming sloppy in his methods?

"We do not blame you for any of this, if that is what you are thinking," Draegaria said sincerely. She took a seat on another chair by the window, resting her hands on her ivory staff. "I have given a decree that you are not to be held accountable in a criminal manner for Ashtarth's end, for I had long accepted the possibility that the only way out of this situation may have been through his death." She bowed her head. "Ashtarth was doomed from the moment he killed my shamans, if not earlier. I thank you for your efforts and your wounds on behalf of a people that is not yours."

Bomberman didn't respond.

"As soon as we determined that the bout between you and Ashtarth was over, I sent Yedari and his best shamans to inspect the shrine for anything that might shed light on the situation with Ashtarth and Procne. Ridaye and Rai fetched the palace healers to see to you and Ashtarth. I've not heard back from Yedari yet."

"How long has it been?"

"Perhaps three hours, or a little more. They may be working to undo some of Ashtarth's protective magicks on and around the shrine in order to investigate further."

Bomberman finally gave a slight nod. "I have a feeling that we'll find something of interest around there."

Draegaria looked intrigued. "When we first met, you and your lady friend were looking for a few things here in Philomel. Have you found any of them?"

"Yes." Bomberman chose not to elaborate. "And if my instincts are correct, we'll find the other thing that I'm looking for at Procne's shrine."

"May it be so." Draegaria smiled again. "Call this a whim, but I have decided to let you keep the shackles for a while longer, until we can recover your friend at the very least. I assume you'll want to participate as much as you can in attempting to figure out the mystery behind Procne's behavior, and I believe you'll be able to put those shackles to good use. Correct me if I'm mistaken on any of these accounts."

There was a knock at the door. "Your Highness?" came a female voice. "I'm here on Yedari's orders, reporting on our progress."

Draegaria called her in. It was one of the female knights that had accompanied Bomberman to Procne's shrine. She bowed briefly before speaking. "Your Highness," she began, "we have found something that may interest you."

"Speak."

"After some investigation in the area around the former shrine of Procne, we uncovered a stone wall with an inscription that read"—and she pulled out a piece of parchment and unrolled it—"_If ye wishes to ascendeth this wall, thou needst rest two blue souls and lay them in the floor of sleep of wherein I lie._ We found that there were two indentations in the platform that is located at the foot of the rear staircase of the shrine."

Draegaria's lips thinned as her face took on a murderous scowl. "Do not tell me...that he thought to ensure the protection of the wall by assuming we'd never move _those?_" she growled, slamming the bottom of her staff into the floor as she got to her feet. "It is a good thing that he lies dead now, for he would not have to suffer my wrath for daring to use such holy relics as pawns in his treachery!"

To the knight's credit, she didn't shrink from this display of Draegaria's regal anger. "We are working to determine if the inscription is referring to the Twin Hearts of Enkidion, and if so, whether we have your Highness' permission to employ them in the manner dictated by the inscription."

The room went deathly quiet. "I had not expected that Ashtarth's power would be able to reach so far," Draegaria said slowly. "The Twin Hearts haven't been touched from the palace vaults for as long as anyone can remember." She flipped the veil onto her face again. "I will have the palace scholars research the Hearts and their properties as fast as possible, and from there I will determine our course. Tell that to Yedari, and in the meantime, he and his knights are to continue investigating the shrine. You are dismissed."

"Yes, your Highness." The kngiht bowed and left.

Draegaria turned to Bomberman. "The Twin Hearts of Enkidion are part of what power the illusions and shields that protect Philomel from the outside, and as such are extremely important," she said. "Depending on what the scholars discover, you may be here for another three hours or another three cycles. The choice is yours to leave or stay."

"I'm staying," Bomberman said, determined. "I have to get Lilith back."

"Then it is so." Draegaria strode towards the door. "I must leave to attend to some official matters, particularly in addresing the entirety of Philomel about Ashtarth's fate. Shall I have the servants bring your midday meal up here later?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine. Er, I mean, that'll be fine, your Majesty."

As Draegaria left, Bomberman motioned at Pommy to bring him the Stones. He jangled them in his palm, and his mind occupied itself with the question of how the Stones had re-appeared when he hadn't been able to consciously get them back after his body had mysteriously absorbed them. _Unless I hadn't really absorbed them? But then I wouldn't have been able to use the Stones for my bombs._ Bomberman traced recent events in his mind as lucidly as he could. There was Ashtarth giving up the fake Wind Stone...the swirl of sharp crystals and the howling winds...the desperation for a way out...the sudden sensation of alternating hot and cold long after...

_...don't tell me that the Stones actually responded to me asking for help?_

As if in response, the three Elementals glimmered before softly melting into his hand.

"Myu?" Pommy blinked and took Bomberman's hand in his paws, studying his palm. "They disappeared again!" He made a thoughtful face. "It looks like there's more to the Elemental Stones than we thought!"

"And to the Astral Knights, apparently." Ashtarth was dead—there was no getting around that. And the stone cold fact of it was, despite his brief moment of confusion and indecision in the Crying Crypts, he had probably been beyond any sort of non-violent persuasion. But the existence of that moment of indecision, plus the tribe's account of him prior to all this, indicated that he had apparently been a normal sort of guy—a really nice one, as a matter of fact—at some point. Moira had hinted that Behemos hadn't always been such a dictatorial bastard, as well. Bomberman had no clue about Baelfael, but it seemed safe to assume that maybe he hadn't always been so barbeque-happy. But if that was the case...if the Astral Knights he had fought and would be fighting weren't who they truly were...then who were they?

The temptation to stay in bed and brood about the possibilities and their implications was very, very strong. But such miserable luxuries couldn't be afforded right now, Bomberman knew. Maybe later, when he got back home. _If_ he got back home.

The bomber let out a perturbed sigh, then tossed aside his blanket and swung himself out of bed. Well, more like "practically tripped on himself and fell to the floor before dragging himself to a standing position by using one of the bedposts as a crutch with Pommy looking on with a mixture of concern and amusement." He decided to attempt a few routine warm-up stretches to test out how far he had recovered from the fight.

His side still creaked with pain from having been slammed into the rooftop—no surprises there. There was an overall stiffness to his body, but he found that it mostly manifested itself in a mild throbbing that increased sharply whenever he moved. If he managed to ignore the pain, he was fairly close to reaching his full range of movement, though he was obviously much slower about it than usual. A number of deep cuts on his right leg and left arm stung and tore fresh when the skin around them stretched, but there were a lot less than he would have expected from being caught in the fake Wind Stone. All in all, Bomberman concluded, he was in pretty good condition. Oddly good condition, in fact. Even with his natural toughness and his years of training, Bomberman was positive that he should've been bedridden for at least another two hours. Not that he was necessarily complaining, but he nonetheless made a quick mental note of this particular oddity.

Pommy hopped up and down on the bed again, his ears flopping. "Well, at least we've got another Elemental Stone now! That means there's only four more to go! What are we going to do next?"

"I don't know about you," Bomberman said, gathering up his clothes, "but I'm taking a bath."


	25. Horizon: Saving Private Lilith

Left with nothing better to do after washing up and eating lunch, Bomberman lay back in bed and tried to rest his body as much as he could. He wanted to test out the explosives that the Stone should theoretically allow him to make, but doing it indoors in such close quarters was out of the question. So he settled for mentally poking and pulling at the elemental powers now residing inside him, all the while fending off thoughts of death and responsibility and fighting and more death. He wasn't always successful, and occasionally hurled a pillow or two around the room after yelling expletives into them. Pommy, of course, was napping throughout Bomberman's inner melodrama.

It took the better part of the afternoon before Draegaria updated him on the situation. "It is a risky move," she told Bomberman, "but we have decided to use the Twin Hearts to unlock that wall. I've sent Masters Thilon and Kijra to retrieve the Hearts, and to help create a substitute that will power Philomel's shields while we are dealing with this situation. In the meantime, we shall set out for Procne's shrine, if you feel you are up to handling things."

Bomberman shrugged. "I'm as good as I'm going to get."

Draegaria pulled together a few other shamans before heading to the shrine. Bomberman followed after her using the shackles, with Pommy in his arms, though he had to travel a little slower than usual given that every landing sent a new twinge of pain up from his feet to his thighs. Nevertheless, he arrived in one piece. As Bomberman headed down the rear staircase, he saw Yedari waiting at the bottom. Next to him was a tall slab of stone that had _definitely_ not been there when Bomberman had last seen the place. It was lined with columns of wedge-shaped characters.

"Ashtarth had a cloaking spell on this," Yedari explained. "He did a formidable job of it as well: it was easy to detect the magick, but much more difficult to neutralize it." He lowered his voice a little. "Not to speak ill of the dead, but I must comment that I feel as though he were taunting us by setting the spell up in the way that he did."

"Was there anything else he cloaked?"

"Only this, your Highness." Yedari pointed to the ground at Bomberman's feet, where there was a stone carving of Procne curled up within a circle of mosaics. "We believe that the 'floor of sleep' that the inscription is referring to is the hollows for Procne's eyes there."

Draegaria frowned, sharp lines appearing around her mouth as she did so. "This is most disturbing," she murmured. "The way he constructed this spell, both to cloak the wall and to unlock its secrets...the fact that he must've been primarily responsible for building this wall, given that there was no one in this shrine to help...what has he been hiding from us all this time?"

Thilon and Kijra arrived a few moments later, bearing stone boxes. "We shall proceed under your orders, your Majesty," Thilon said.

Draegaria nodded. "Place the Hearts," she ordered. "Everyone else, step back."

As Thilon and Kijra knelt to do as Draegaria instructed, everyone else formed a curious circle around the masters. When Thilon and Kijra set the Hearts—two blue orbs sparkling with ancient power—into the carving of Procne, the carving and the grout between the stone bricks that made up the platform suddenly lit up, as did the inscription on the stone wall. A vertical line of light seared down the middle of the wall; it was punctuated by a series of horizontal lines. Scored thusly, the stone wall broke apart and folded up into an arched gateway, revealing a shimmering blue portal.

"A gate to a different plane?" Draegaria raised her eyebrows.

"Wait!" Yedari said. "Let me check for its safety, your Highness. We do not know yet of its nature." He boldly walked over and poked his head straight through the portal, as though he were merely looking around a corner. "I see a staircase leading upwards," he reported. "I cannot see or sense anything strange at the moment." He pulled himself back. "Your Highness, with your permission, I would like to scout ahead and determine its safety for you."

Draegaria nodded. "Do as you see fit, Yedari."

Yedari motioned to two of his knights nearby, and they followed him through the gate, disappearing with white ripples.

"Myuuu," Pommy purred. "Pommy wonders what could be in there! Maybe it's treasure!"

"Or a large pit of boiling tomato sauce," Bomberman said.

"Myu?"

Bomberman shook his head as he gently set Pommy on the ground.

When Yedari and his knights returned minutes later, their faces were pale with disbelief. "Y-your Majesty..." Yedari stuttered, attempting the usual bow of respect before continuing. "I...we..."

Draegaria strode forward and laid a concerned hand on Yedari's shoulder. "Yedari, what's the matter?"

Yedari took a deep breath and composed himself. "You may wish to see this for yourself, your Highness."

"Then lead me."

Yedari did. Draegaria followed swiftly after him, and right behind Draegaria were Bomberman and Pommy. They were trailed by some of Yedari's shamanic knights, as well as Kijra (Thilon had taken the precaution of staying behind in order to keep an eye on the portal). The spiraling stone staircase Yedari had spoken of earlier was steep, with steps that sometimes crumbled under hurried footsteps, but such a minor obstacle barely registered in the minds of man who were currently ascending the twisted flight, and Bomberman was hardly the exception.

The stairs led out onto an open-air floor of stone, where a faint scent of incense lingered. A series of chipped alabaster pillars, inscribed with more undecipherable writing, lined the edges. More colorful rectangular banners trailed down the lengths of the pillars. And in the center...

"By Enkidion's talons," Draegaria muttered, looking above her.

Encased in a spherical force field was the Gravity Generator, floating high in the air. A circular glyph of luminescent green floated above it. Tethered to the generator by energy cords of a similar color was a collection of limp bodies, each one also surrounded in a force field.

Bomberman recognized one body instantly. "Lilith!"

"And I can see Teume from here," Draegaria said. "I can guess at a few more, as well." She turned to Yedari, her expression uneasy. "These, then, are Procne's victims?"

Yedari nodded. "We flew up to confirm their identities. Every single person that was kidnapped has been accounted for here."

"I can't believe this..." one of Yedari's knights muttered. "What in Philomel is going on here?"

"And thus is the problem: this is _not_ in Philomel," Kijra responded, with a touch of humor. Her face wrinkled as she studied the unholy configuration, and her eyes flashed silver for a moment. "I know not why this is so, but it would seem that...thing...in the center is extracting energy from each of the bodies connected to it."

Bomberman's stomach churned with the implications. "The Gravity Generator is being powered by their life energy," he realized. For a very brief moment, he suddenly wasn't so sorry that Ashtarth was dead.

Draegaria regarded Bomberman curiously from behind her white veil. "This is what you were looking for? What exactly is it?"

"Long story short, it's something that should preferably be lying in little pieces on the ground," Bomberman said.

"I shall take your word for it...if only because I share the same sentiments at this moment." Draegaria's eyes returned to the Gravity Generator and the swarm of unconscious forms hovering around it like fireflies. "Kijra, can you make anything more of this?"

"The glyph is the key to the workings, I know that much." Kijra walked a little to her left. "It seems to be a custom variation on an old healing spell that requires an exchange of life energy." She closed her eyes and shook her head, little silver braids falling around her face. "There are many layers to the magick here. It will take a while to shift through them, especially without Thilon here."

"I can fetch Master Thilon for you if her Majesty wishes it," Yedari offered.

"No. Thilon needs to stay on the other side to ensure that nothing happens to the portal. I will have to make do with who we have here."

A screech resounded through the air and through every cell of Bomberman's body. "Guess who's back, back again," he muttered.

The half-avian, half-draconian form of Procne swept through the area, sending up gusts of wind and faint clouds of dust and dirt. She looped up and around the Gravity Generator, curling around it as though it were an egg.

"Myu, Procne guards the generator?" Pommy said, worried. "Then we have to beat her up!"

"Yeah, and how do you propose we do that?" Bomberman responded, raising an eyebrow.

"It seems that Procne's control is tied to the glyph as well," Kijra said. "Your Majesty, if you please, I will need your assistance and Yedari's to work at unraveling the glyph. As I said, I do not know the exact workings yet, so I am quite sure we will uncover more keys to it as we go. But I will need all the power that I can get."

"Understood," Draegaria and Yedari said.

"I need the rest of Yedari's knights to lend their energies to maintaining a shield each around myself, Yedari, and Draegaria while we focus on the glyph," Kijra shouted over another one of Procne's cries. "You, fledgling, will have to distract Procne essentially by yourself. While the knights may be able to provide assistance should either myself, her Majesty, or Yedari be in immediate danger, their focus is on protecting us. However, if you held your own against Ashtarth, then I have faith that you will perform admirably here as well."

Bomberman stopped in mid-stretch to stare at Kijra in disbelief. Finding that she was totally and completely serious about sending a half-battered "fledgling" out to do battle with a mutant avian, he sighed and glanced down at Pommy. "Well, you heard the lady," he said. "You with me, creampuff?"

"M-myu?" Pommy looked up. "But wh-what can Pommy do against something like Procne? Besides, Pommy can't even fly or do cool flippy things like Bomberman can!"

_Well, well, it looks like he actually has a legitimate excuse to sit this one out. _"Fine, you've got a point," he conceded. "How about this, then—in case I happen to lose control of Procne, _you_ distract her from everyone else."

"But how will Pommy do that?"

"You'll figure something out!" With that, Bomberman oriented himself to the roof, zipping past Procne just long enough to drop a fire bomb right behind her neck.

_BOOM!_

Procne squawked and thrashed in mid-air, jostling her victims around the generator. Green feathers, singed and smoking, floated serenely to the ground.

"Be careful!" Kijra's voice carried across the way, but just barely. "Don't disturb the setup! Otherwise we may not be able to repair any damage that may have already been done!"

Bomberman growled to himself as he remained perched upside down on the roof. Apparently his plans for saving Lilith and the others by severing their ties to the Gravity Generator would have to wait. Time for Plan B...not that he actually had one. Testing out an on-the-spot theory, he oriented himself to Procne's back, landing hard on her spine. Just as quickly, Procne jerked and threw him off, but he only ended up landing on her side instead, thanks to the shackles. The gusts generated by the flapping over her wings proved to be a rather large annoyance, however, and so Bomberman settled for tossing three ice bombs onto her back before hopping to a nearby pillar.

_I need to get her out of this area,_ Bomberman thought as he quickly surveyed the situation from his current perch: Procne writhing in a frosty cloud, Kijra and Draegaria and Yedari encased in glimmering green shields, the Gravity Generator with its human batteries. He started a barrage of wind explosives, hoping that _maybe_ he could eventually nudge Procne into a safer spot. Just as he was gearing up to fling a wind superbomb, Procne chose to unleash an energy beam at him.

_VWOOOOM!_

"Dah!" Bomberman barely leapt out of the way. He touched down on a pillar and tossed the superbomb at Procne. Procne smacked it away with a flap of a wing, then soared straight at Bomberman, who once again avoided by hopping to another pillar. He spent the next few minutes alternating between tossing explosives at Procne and then quickly jumping to a safer spot once the divine guardian was pissed off enough to attack him. Despite landing a few hits, Bomberman was only feeling more pessimistic by the second: not only were his bombs not doing much damage, but he still hadn't fully recovered from his fight with Ashtarth, and increasingly felt as though he were moving through maple syrup. His explosives were starting to miss by miles. "Uh, hey," he stammered as Procne turned to glare at him after the umpteenth bomb, "how's it going down there?"

"We seem to have unraveled the first few layers," Draegaria answered, her voice strained. "But the working is complex! We need more time!"

Procne snapped her head in the direction of Draegaria's voice, enticed by the sound of a second meal.

"Crap!" With a bomb in hand, Bomberman oriented himself to the floor nearby Draegaria. He landed hard on the ground with an audible _thump_, ignored the pain shooting up his legs, whirled around, and flung the explosive at a dive-bombing Procne. Procne, however, swerved to the side, and the bomb just missed catching Yedari in its blast radius. In a last-ditch effort to deter the deranged guardian, Bomberman shouted out a vaguely coherent warning to Draegaria and her troupe, then whipped out the brightest flash bomb that he could before diving to the side. With a grunt, he scrambled to his feet and blinked his eyes repeatedly. When he was able to see again, Bomberman realized that Procne, in her disorientation, had fixated on Kijra as her next victim. "Out of the gunpowder and into the nitro," he sighed, rubbing his side.

"Myu?" Pommy mewed from somewhere near his feet. "What does that mean?"

Bomberman glanced down at Pommy. Then up at Procne. Then at the banner hanging on a pillar nearby.

"What are you doing, Bomberman?" Pommy said, worried. "That gray-haired lady is in trouble! You should go—"

_YANK!_

Bomberman snatched Pommy and sprinted up the pillar, then let out the loudest whistle he could. "Hey!" he called, holding Pommy out by his ears and shaking him slightly. "Want a gourmet creampuff as an appetizer?"

"_Pommy doesn't appreciate this, myuuu!"_ wailed Pommy, flailing his paws and feet.

Procne turned. Upon sighting Bomberman and Pommy, she cawed loudly and zoomed for the two.

At the last moment, Bomberman pulled Pommy back, snatched up the bottom of the banner, and jumped.

_R-R-RIIIPPP!_

_CRASSHHH!_

The pillar crumbled and the banner tore from its place as Procne hurtled straight on through in a predatory rage. Bomberman managed to use a mixture of his momentum and the power of the shackles to swing himself up and onto her back using the banner—which was now stuck in Procne's mouth as a makeshift bit. With both ends firmly in his grip, he yanked, and Procne squealed in protest.

Pommy's indignant grumblings were muffled by the fact that he was chomping onto the bottom of Bomberman's sweatshirt in a desperate attempt to hang on for life. "Pommy didn't like that at all, myu!"

"That makes two of us!" Bomberman snapped, gritting his teeth as he was trying to figure out how and where to steer Procne. He was starting to have his doubts about his randomly creative plan as he saw how thin the fabric really was, how empty the sky around them was, and...well...how amazingly pissed off Procne was. Still, he had to make the best of this odd opportunity, and he managed to maneuver Procne up and over the main structure. He spotted the roof below him, and prepared to hop onto it and simply deal with Procne from there.

Procne had other ideas. She jerked her head, angled downwards, and barreled right through the roof.

_CRAASHH!_

Bomberman clutched tightly to the banner, ducking his head to avoid the pieces of ancient stone raining upon him. He looked up in time to see Procne headed for the open sky on the opposite side. With a yell, he forced Procne in the opposite direction—or at least in a different direction than she intended, since the banner chose that time to rip from his hands. Bomberman grumbled an expletive, then left two fire bombs on Procne's back as he gathered up Pommy and jumped ship to the floor, diving into a roll to absorb the impact. "Geez oh man," he muttered, tumbling to his knees and shuddering. "I am _never_ d-doing that again anytime soon..._owww._"

"P-Pommy doesn't think she's done yet!" Pommy squeaked.

Procne had ascended into the air, her wings flapping wider and harder, generating winds that were almost strong enough to send Bomberman flying backwards. Her open beak of glassy obsidian gathered streams of iridescent white between her teeth. Her violet eyes were fixed squarely on the Gravity Generator.

_Don't disturb the setup!_ Kijra's warning echoed in Bomberman's head.

Despite wanting nothing more to just curl up on the floor and pass out, Bomberman charged a fire bomb and sprang up to orient himself to Procne's body once again. He tossed the bomb at her head and detonated it with the remote control in his pocket.

_BOOM!_

Procne's lower half thrashed; her tail swung up to swat Bomberman off. He prepared to land on Procne again, but Procne's face—seared red by now—turned on him, her open beak now preparing to snatch him up in her jaws. Bomberman's eyes widened as he attempted to change course. _Oh, sh—_

Then Kijra's voice cut through the din in an unfamiliar language. Her words rang clear and pure like a rush of holy water.

There was a roar of wind. The glyph hovering above the Gravity Generator exploded into ten million shards of fine light that broke into illusory dust. Likewise, the energy field containing the generator and the unconscious victims faded away. They floated gently to the floor.

Procne had begun to convulse violently, as though something were being ripped from her body. And as Bomberman landed on the roof, he thought he saw something like a ghostly green version of Procne spiral out from her body. It twisted and folded into a myriad of impossible positions befores vanishing in a similar manner to the glyph. Procne herself went limp in mid-air. Just when it seemed as though she would crash into a painful heap on the ground, she faded as well.

Bomberman blinked. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened or how things had happened...but it had ended with the safe release of the kidnapping victims and the deactivation of the Gravity Generator's force field, both of which were undoubtedly good things. He awkwardly paid his respects to Procne with a short bow before orienting himself to the floor to check on Lilith.

Pommy was already by Lilith's side, trying to shake her into wakefulness. "Lilith? Lilith?" Pommy said. "Wake up, Lilith! Everything's all right now! Pommy and Bomberman"—he hastily corrected himself when he saw Bomberman towering over him—"are here!"

Lilith scrunched her face up and slowly lifted the back of her hand to place over her eyes. She yawned. "Wh-what the hell is going on...?" she muttered, sitting up.

"Long story." Bomberman extended a slightly trembling hand. "Need some help?"

With a tired smile, Lilith took Bomberman's hand.

It was then that Bomberman noticed how cute Lilith's smile was and how soft her skin felt.

He suddenly lost his grip on Lilith's fingers.

_WHUMP!_

"Ack!" Lilith fell onto her back.

Bomberman went bright red. _Way to go, hero_. "S-sorry," he stammered, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans. "Butterfingers, I guess?"

Lilith laughed, though she winced when she sat up again. "We all have them, at some point or another," she said. She reached around to rub her back; Pommy was suspiciously quick to aid her in this motion.

Bomberman took out his annoyance on the Gravity Generator.

As the remains of the generator sent feeble smoke signals of surrender into the air, Lilith said, "I take it from the fact that you're here that you defeated Ashtarth."

Bomberman nodded, not noticing how Lilith suddenly seemed to know who Ashtarth was. "He had an Elemental Stone on him, in case you were wondering."

"As expected. Might I have a look at it?"

"Er...there's a bit of a problem."

A confused pause. "What's that?"

"The Stones, they...um...seem to have gone inside me?"

Prompted by Lilith's confused expression, Bomberman tried his best to explain, as concisely and clearly as possible, his experiences with seeing the Stones melt into his hand, and not seeing them again until after he had recovered from the fight with Ashtarth, where the Stones _may_ have helped him, and then how he had absorbed them again a little while afterwards.

Lilith wrinkled her brow. "That's odd," she said. "I haven't heard of anything like that before." She gave Bomberman a quick look-over. "It doesn't seem to be doing you any harm right now, though, and it _does_ make them harder to steal from you, at least."

"Agreed." Bomberman and Lilith had a laugh at this for a moment. He continued, "Can I ask how the Astral Knights ended up with these things in the first place, though? I mean, the Stones aren't exactly sold wholesale at the corner supermarket."

"You ready for a bit of a fairy tale?"

"Ooh!" Pommy jumped up and down. "Pommy loves fairy tales!"

"Go for it," Bomberman said. "I was sucked into a black hole and managed to survive. I'm pretty sure I can believe more impossible things at this point."

Lilith giggled softly. "The Astral Knights used to be the Elemental Knights, seven demigods and demigoddesses who were sworn to protect the Elemental Stones and, consequently, this entire universe."

Pommy's eyes went wide. "What? The Astral Knights used to be good guys?"

Bomberman was also surprised, though for a different reason. "The elemental spirits aren't just myths—they're actually real?"

"Yes...and yes," Lilith answered. She raised an eyebrow in Bomberman's direction. "You've heard of them, too?"

"I've begun to think that I have, though it's probably different from how you know them. We do have a legend back home about three elemental gods who recruited from among the newly created bomber race for their wars against each other, giving their bombers with the elemental power: fire, water, or lightning. But then the spirits decided that seriously fighting things out wasn't as much fun as they thought, and so they simply decided to encourage their bombers to continue the wars that _they_ started, testing out various theories each spirit had about the nature of these particular people and essentially making a game out of the bombers' suffering. Long story short, the warriors of the fire god Belpheli—that is, the pyrotechnics—eventually won out, and that's why they're the dominant bomber type on Bomber Star. We were given the Fire Stone as a symbol of Belpheli's favor, to protect from evil and to use against it as needed. Or, you know, to use against the rest of the bomber race to dominate them."

Lilith let out a startled laugh. "Your mythology is...rather cynically violent."

Bomberman shrugged. "That's actually my personal interpretation of things—I never really bought much into the original version, and I wasn't raised in the path that would require belief in the spirits' inherent benevolence," he admitted. "I guess that's why I never made an initial connection between Baelfael and Belpheli or anything like that. It was all just stories to me."

"Not that the knights would necessarily be recognizable to their followers in their current forms." Lilith's voice dropped from cheerfully exhausted to just plain weary. "They've been corrupted, all of them, and they're being used in the plans of the BHB Army leader, Rukifellth, as his pawns in dominating as much of this existence as he's allowed to."

"Myuuu..." Pommy tapped his foot on the ground, appearing to think things over. "The knights are really strong—we could really use their help! Is there any way to get them back to the way they were?"

Bomberman again remembered Ashtarth's hesitation in the crypts and Behemos' unintentional display of affection for seemingly-forgotten baby sister Moira.

Lilith's shoulders slumped for the shortest of moments. "I thought...there was..." she murmured. Her lips pressed into a resigned line. "But it would seem that only brute force can stop them now. All or nothing: that's what this has come to." She smiled sadly at Bomberman. "But you seem to know that a little too well already, don't you?"

Surprised by this sudden bit of sympathy from Lilith, Bomberman managed a nod.

"Still...I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to take off on me now and hide out somewhere," Lilith said. "Things have been crappy up until now, and they're not going to get any better. So you have my full permission—and blessing, for whatever that might be worth—to drop everything on me right here and now."

"Not gonna happen," Bomberman said, amused and touched by the offer. "You yourself said the BHB Army had me in my sights, remember? I doubt that there's anywhere I can really hide from them in this black hole. I'm already far too deep in this mess to pull myself out."

"Oh, fine, if you say so. But just be careful, okay?" Lilith suddenly rummaged around in her pockets. "Oh, and I meant to give you this earlier. I bought it cheap off a kiosk on a merchant ship nearby." She handed Bomberman a sleek black communicator. "If you ever need me, go ahead and beep me. Though depending on what I'm doing, you might just get my voice mail. But don't hesitate to leave a message, all right?"

Bomberman stared in wonder at the communicator, trying to find words for the sentiments that this gift stirred in him. The possibilities that had suddenly been dumped on him as a result of this were dangerous with a capital D. "L-Lilith! You didn't have to...I mean, why d-did you..." He swallowed. "I'll...pay you back as soon as I get some cash."

"Pfft!" Lilith waved him off. "It's no big deal. Besides, with the both of us fighting against the BHB Army, I figured that it would be good for the both of us to keep in touch. Doing things mostly solo reduced the amount of casualties, but it's been hard as hell, let me tell you."

Bomberman was about to ask Lilith how long she had been at odds with the BHB Army when he spotted Draegaria approaching him. He quickly turned and bowed. "How are things going, your Majesty?" he asked.

"Procne's victims are weak and disoriented, but they shall be fine with some rest," Draegaria said. "As for Procne herself, well...I can't really say too much at this point, seeing as there has been no precedent for this sort of thing as far as I can remember. If I had to conjecture, I would say that, as soon as we released the glyph's power on her, Procne retreated to Cielahem to recuperate from the strain." She sighed. "I suppose we shall know as soon as we get a new Channeler." She eyed Lilith. "Your lady friend—Lilith, was it?—appears to be doing quite well."

Lilith curtsied. "I am, thank you."

"I know that these have been trying times for the both of you, but could I possibly ask you to stay a while longer in Philomel while I determine suitable rewards for your help?"

"You needn't find anything for me, your Majesty," Lilith interjected. "It was a little hard to help out, what with snoozing in a different dimension for most part of the action."

"At least allow me to show my appreciation for choosing to risk your life for the tribe." Draegaria turned to Bomberman. "And you, fledgling, must be richly compensated for the wounds you have suffered and the role you played in resolving these events."

It was rather funny, Bomberman thought, that he used to be able to demand the biggest reward possible without any shame whatsoever as to the nature of his requests. That was when he was still a naive recruit to the ranks of Bomber Base, of course. Adolescent stupidity went a long way. "I don't really need anything," he insisted, "but I'll be thankful for anything you decide on. I just ask that you don't make too much of a big deal about it."

"Rewarding the outsider who almost single-handedly saved Philomel is hardly a trivial matter," Draegaria said, chuckling softly. "Nevertheless, I shall try to honor your request, and keep your reward as simple and un-lavish as possible. When we return to the palace, I shall have Yedari show you and Lilith up to the guest room once more to rest up for the night."


	26. Horizon: V For Victory

Philomel came alive once again when Draegaria and Bomberman returned with the rescued victims in tow. Tribespeople lined the streets and the windows to greet their long-lost loved ones and to heap praises upon the rescue team. Relieved as he was at the cheer that had returned to Philomel, Bomberman was also exhausted as hell, and as soon as he reached his room, he flopped onto the bed and fell asleep, injuries be damned. Lilith arranged the chairs in the room into a makeshift cradle and snoozed thusly, buried under extra blankets. Pommy staked out a drawer of his own.

The next day brought a flurry of activity as the palace rushed to set up celebratory preparations. With Draegaria's consent, Bomberman holed himself up in the room once again, trying to regain his energy and sanity after the past two days. He passed the time by conversing with Lilith about their respective mythologies, curious to see what odd stories she had to share. Occasionally, palace workers such as healers or general servants would pass by to check on them.

Dinner was comprised of the widest array of dishes imaginable, and the dining hall had been unofficially extended to some of the outer rooms to provide for the sheer number of people who had flocked to the palace. Bomberman, Lilith, and Pommy were given seats at the front of the main dining hall alongside Draegaria, Yedari, and Kalnithi, along with other apparently important individuals in Philomel. Bomberman was still too drained on a number of levels to enjoy his food, and having five thousand and three pairs of eyes fixed on him all the while wasn't helping matters any. Out of respect towards Draegaria and her court, Bomberman kept up the appearance of nighttime hunger by nibbling on frequent bites of the tiniest slivers of poultry and herbs.

After dinner came the official ceremony in the audience hall with which Bomberman and Lilith were to be rewarded for their role in Philomel's recent events. Following an introductory speech, Draegaria called Lilith forward. She fitted Lilith with a string of polished stone beads before continuing.

"Lilith, who flies without wings, was one of Procne's victims," Draegaria said. "Yet by virtue of that, she has proven herself as formidable as any shaman of this tribe. We commend her tonight for her willingness to risk her life for the tribe." She turned to Lilith. "You showed regret for the fact that you were asleep while much of the events occurred. Thus I bestow upon you Draught of Crimson Taurus, a concoction known to help keep up one's strength and power beyond usual mortal limits."

Lilith took three blue bottles from a pair of well-dressed servants and looked them over. She gently pulled the stopper out of one of them and sniffed the contents. Satisfied, she closed the bottle and nodded. "Thank you for your generosity, your Majesty."

"And through this we thank you for your selflessness." Draegaria motioned to her side. "I now call Bomberman forward to receive his due."

"Go Bomberman!" Pommy whispered. "Pommy knows that Bomberman works hard, so even though Pommy's the greatest hero in the universe, Pommy will let Bomberman have a chance in the spotlight!"

_I will not use Pommy for s'mores,_ Bomberman chanted to himself as he went to stand next to Draegaria. He, too, received a string of beads, though his was more elaborate than Lilith's.

"Bomberman, a wingless and landbound outsider, was probably the last person any of us could have thought to save Philomel from utter ruin. It is thanks to your Sky Prince Kalnithi that I agreed to let this stranger prove himself to us. And prove himself he did. He proved his strength of body at the Trial of the Square and by defeating our Channeler in fair battle"—Bomberman had to stifle a cynical snort at that—"and he proved his strength of heart by choosing to stay with us to help recover Procne's victims and to restore our guardian to her senses, even when I gave my full consent for him to flee. His impressive character cannot, and should not, be denied."

The audience hall roared with applause. When it had quieted down, Draegaria nodded to her side. Thilon and Kijra approached her, dressed in ceremonial robes. "To help him accomplish his deeds," Draegaria said, "we lent Bomberman the famed shackles of Tereus, the disgraced avian. Bomberman turned a symbol of imprisonment and punishment into a thing of redemption and freedom. Unfortunately, we could not get the consent of the masters' guild to agree to grant him the shackles for life. So we have settled on what we believe to be an acceptable alternative." Draegaria stepped back as Thilon and Kijra took places on either side of Bomberman. "What the masters Kijra and Thilon are about to perform is a modified version of the spell used to aid fledglings in accomodating themselves to heights even when their wings are not fully functional."

The two shaman masters chanted something in unison. They traced out a magick glyph on either side of Bomberman, and as the mystical theatrics died down Bomberman felt a strange lightness settle in his body. He shook himself out slightly, trying to figure out the nature of the sensation. "Erm...your Majesty? Sorry for a possibly stupid question, but what just happened?"

Draegaria smiled patiently. "We could not give you the ability to fly, and we could not give you the shackles," she said. "So instead, we give you a better affinity with the air." This didn't clear up anything for Bomberman, but Draegaria saved him from embarrassment by pointing down the main aisle. "With what we have granted you, you will be able to jump from here to halfway to the exit, though perhaps it may be curtailed slightly as a result of your injuries."

It was all Bomberman could do not to let his jaw drop in complete disbelief. "What?"

"I realize that this must be incomprehensible to you, but I assure you that you _can_ do it, and it will feel very natural to you." Draegaria pointed up at the balcony level towards the back as well. "I will also guarantee that you will be able to reach that from the ground with ease."

Draegaria's words made no sense to Bomberman. Halfway across the audience hall from where he was standing must have been at least fifty feet, if not more. The height of the balcony seemed to be only twenty feet or less, but that was still way more than any normal human could be expected to jump, never mind a relatively normal human that had physically just gone through hell and back. This was more than incomprehensible—this was unadulterated bona fide insanity! But Bomberman remembered his doubts when he had first worn the shackles, and how that had paid off in the end for him. Surely Draegaria and Kijra and Thilon wouldn't let him down now.

Taking a deep breath, Bomberman edged backwards, giving himself as much sprinting room as possible. With the entirety of the audience hall gazing intently upon him, Bomberman ran, jumped...and landed square in the center of the main aisle.

Applause and cheers rang out.

_Holy crap_, Bomberman thought, wanting to collapse with shock. _I did not just jump that. Yes I did. No I didn't. What the heck is going on? _He dared to eye the balcony level above, still another fifty feet or so away and half that distance from the ground. He backed up again, then jumped the last half of the main aisle, then leapt up from there as though he were just attempting to reach a ledge a few feet above his head. He ended up overshooting the balcony by at least five feet. Clearly, Bomberman thought as he dangled from a banner that he'd managed to grab on the way down, he had overestimated the amount of effort it would have taken to reach the balcony. That is to say, barely any at all—just like Draegaria had promised.

As Bomberman carefully let himself down from the banner and trotted back down the aisle towards Draegaria, his mind alternated between _Wow, this is going to be pretty damn useful! _and _Holy crap, my basemates are going to __**kill**__ me for this ability._


	27. Starlight: Shopping Trip

**lulz. I love how I managed to slice up 26 decently-sized chapters out of the three original chapters that were up here. I think that says something about me and I don't think it's very flattering.**

**Either way, we're getting a move on to Starlight, slowly but surely. It starts off fairly light-hearted, but about halfway through you'll have to board the Angst-O-Rama Choo Choo. No if's, no but's, no canon sluts. Sorry, but that's just how things have to be.**

**Insert disclaimer here or something.**

B-O-M-B

The aisles of Yoshi's Super Store, located on the main floor of the Merchant Ship Frontier (open 33 hours a day!) were crowded with residents, permanent and not, of the black hole that had recently swallowed part of the Calerodinian solar system. Most of the residents currently trolling the store happened to be members of a prominently odd religious sect whose doctrine convinced its adherents that the appearance of the black hole was clearly a sign that the One-Eyed Dragon of Heaven had gotten hungry enough to swallow the universe. Through mixing a vast and potent enough mixture of scrambled eggs, vinegar, chopped celery, and paprika (and maybe purple peppers if one were so inclined), they might be able to cause the Dragon to sneeze them back out onto the mortal plane. Barring that, they might simply be able to speed up their exit out the _other_ side of the Dragon.

Lilith chose to ignore this last unsavory image in favor of stomach-lusting after the recipe when she heard it from two adherents discussing it nearby. She made a mental note to try it out later when she actually felt like cooking something that wasn't pre-packaged. She was wandering the supermarket in search of canned fruits, dried noodles, and feminine essentials. At the same time, she hummed a cheerfully adorable tune to herself as she drafted and re-drafted various plans of action on the grid paper of her brain.

The arrival of Bomberman had been an unexpected but welcomed twist in her long-term plans for taking down the BHB Army with essentially a one-woman militia. With his presence distracting the BHB Army (if not outright pissing them off by disposing of their Astral Knights and then taking the Elemental Stones), she was free to keep better tabs on BHB intelligence and wreak havoc that way. She was confident in her ability to handle direct confrontations, but Lilith always preferred stealth over strength.

She wasn't _really_ using Bomberman, Lilith told herself as she pored over different brands of canned fruit cocktail. After all, it hadn't been _her_ who'd forced him to go up against Baelfael and kill him. That was just an unhappy accident. And she _had_ offered Bomberman a way out on Aquanet prior to him meeting (and consequently killing) Behemos. As for Ashtarth, well, Bomberman didn't have to go save her from Procne, now, did he? Not that she wasn't utterly thankful to him for that. Anyway, all things considered, it had been too late for him the moment he dropped into the black hole for the simple fact that he'd possessed the one Elemental Stone that the BHB Army had been looking for. There was no use crying over spilled lattes, and if spilling the latte proved to be beneficial in her plans, who was she to question it?

None of this served to distract her from the fact that she, the feared Scourge of the Spaceways, was actually afraid of dying for once in her life.

_I can't die here. I can't die now_. Lilith clutched a small can in her hand. _If I die, who's left to fight against the BHB Army?_

_But that's what Bomberman and Darrington are for, right?_ her ex-friend Evyline's voice chimed in—always the voice of guilt and contrarianism.

_At least Darrington and his group have a good reason to be involved. They just want the BHB Army out of their home. But without the intel that they get from me, they'd be at a huge disadvantage. And Bomberman's innocent—he doesn't know what the hell is going on._

_So tell him. Then he won't be innocent anymore. What's the problem?_

Lilith had no answer for this. Partly because she suddenly realized that a cool, syrupy liquid was dripping between her fingers and down her arm: she'd accidentally crushed the fruit can in her hand. Not willing to be caught sticky-handed, Lilith shoved the can onto a shelf and backed away with her basket of groceries, wiping some of the juice on her shorts and licking the rest off her hand.

_Be practical_, she chided herself, scampering into the next aisle. _Bomberman's here, and he's innocent, but he can obviously take care of himself if he was able to defeat three Astral Knights. He might ultimately have different motives, but we both want the BHB Army gone. So there should be no problem with factoring him into things._ Lilith frowned. _I'd prefer to keep him away from Darrington, but with Baelfael, Behemos, and now Ashtarth dead, even Darrington's spies would have been able to pick up on the ramifications of that by now. With Bomberman in the sights of the BHB Army, Darrington's going to want to use him...__**without**__ regard for Bomberman's well-being. I guess I'll just have to factor that in, as well._

Bomberman had fallen into an easily definable role: defeating the Astral Knights and taking their Elemental Stones in order to prevent the BHB Army from accomplishing their goals. It had been a role that Lilith had been almost ready to take on herself, but she'd ducked out at the last moment, much to her everlasting shame. Because of that, Bomberman had now suffered a great deal of physical and emotional pain, pain that _she_ rightly deserved as the "Scourge of the Spaceways." Lilith still disliked the fact that Bomberman held the Stones when he was smack dab in the middle of the BHB Army's crosshairs, but two things made her feel better: the fact that the Stones actually seemed to help with his own abilities (what did he say he was, a "bomber"...?) and the unexplainable occurrence of the Elemental Stones being absorbed into his body. So not only was Bomberman better-equipped to handle the obstacles in his way, but it would also be hard as hell to steal the Stones from him. The downside to this, of course, was that the BHB Army would most likely have to kill Bomberman in order to get at the Stones. But considering that Bomberman had had a death warrant on his head as soon as he'd escaped from his prison and killed Baelfael, the thought wasn't as disheartening as it could be...though it was still depressing.

With Bomberman out in the field, and Darrington doing whatever it was that he and his folks did, Lilith was left to her intelligence work, keeping tabs on any developments in the Army that might serve as weaknesses for resistance forces to strike at. The gossip among the lower ranks was that Rukifellth had recently been getting bolder in his manner and his orders, but no one could say why. Lilith's first thought was that Rukifellth was trying to compensate for the holes left in his defense now that three Astral Knights were dead. But then she picked up on odd things from the discussions of some of the higher ranked officers, little things that could be dismissed as the rantings of a madman, such as Rukifellth wanting to "regain his true body" and to "shroud this universe in darkness." Odd little things that shouldn't frighten her because of how trite and cliched they sounded...and yet they shook her to her very soul.

_What could have happened to him?_ Lilith thought in despair. _This can't just be him deciding to turn to the darker side of life after that fight between us—which wasn't even that bad! There's got to be something else that I'm missing here. But what is it?_

Lilith suddenly stopped in her tracks and ducked behind a display of stacked paper towels at the end of the aisle.

Loitering by a shelf of sugar cookies a couple of feet away was none other than Bulzeeb the Black Breath of the Astral Knights.

She had known of him under a different name long before the existence of the BHB Army: he was famous among the members of the Calerodinian underground for his leadership of the Obsidian Phoenix syndicate in Cerbera on Charade, Thantos. With her type of connections and her line of work, Lilith soon learned of his reputation in the time that she spent on Thantos carrying out other duties. She had even chanced to meet him a couple of times; she had always left impressed and respectful of his personage. The man was currently incognito, having opted for casual wear in shades of black, off-black, and dark black, but even so, other shoppers kept a wide berth around him, as if they somehow knew that crossing this particular black cat would bring even more bad luck than usual.

_What's he doing here?_ Lilith wondered, instinctively lowering her chi and pretending to be engrossed in normal shopping activity. _He must be off-duty, considering the way he's dressed. Plus, I don't think that an Astral Knight—no matter how disgraced the rest of them must be in Rukifellth's eyes by now—would ever be relegated to grocery shopping duty. Maybe he's meeting with someone after this? But I didn't hear anything like that regarding him..._

"I know you're there, Scourge." His voice, pervasive like midnight, carried itself over to Lilith's ears as though he were standing right next to her.

With her cover now in pieces, Lilith straightened up and stepped out to face the feared dark knight. He was staring at her with an effortless air of arrogant indifference. "What now?" Lilith asked. "You caught me. I'm here."

Bulzeeb returned to studying the varieties of cookies nearby. "I was simply informing you that I knew of your presence," he said, taking down a yellow box and flipping it over to read the back. "I didn't think it useful—or amusing—in this particular set of circumstances to delude you into believing you had taken over the shadows in my stead."

Lilith couldn't help but snort. "I'm thankful for your consideration," she replied sarcastically. "Am I allowed to ask your business here, oh prince of the shadows?"

There was the briefest of glares from Bulzeeb's end. "It's nothing that concerns the BHB Army, if that's what you're asking."

Lilith carefully kept her gaze on Bulzeeb as she tried to analyze the situation. Bulzeeb didn't appear to have changed much from before and after joining the BHB Army, based on what she knew about him and the intelligence she was picking up on him. If this were the case, then he could be trusted to be telling the truth. But nothing was ever that certain, especially not now, so even as Lilith turned her back on him to continue her grocery shopping, she kept a close eye on the Astral Knight, tracking his shadowy aura through the supermarket from the fruit section to the bottled drinks all the way to the checkout line.

As Bulzeeb exited the supermarket, with Lilith following a discreet distance behind him, he gave a long, theatrical sigh. "If you must go home with something," he said, not turning around, "then know this: Zhael plans to seduce your little bomber."

Lilith blinked. "What?"

"I heard it from Zoniha not too long ago. I don't know whether or not Zhael's plans will change, but such a modus operandi is entirely within her whims." He chuckled softly. "I highly doubt that Bomberman will fall for it, should Zhael actually carry it out, but if he does, well...perhaps he is not as worthy an opponent as I thought."

"Why are you telling me this?" Lilith demanded.

But the Black Breath was already gone.

Lilith chewed on the inside of her lower lip. Was Bulzeeb telling the truth this time, as well? No matter—even if he wasn't, it couldn't hurt to give Bomberman a heads-up about general specifics. Lilith dug around in her back pocket for her communicator and dialed the number for the communicator she had given Bomberman on Horizon.

There was no answer.


	28. Starlight: Casino Fatale

Bomberman swore to himself as he wove through the noisy crowds of Tolbi Casino with Pommy in his arms. He wished he hadn't forgotten his communicator on the plane. Then he could bug Lilith to see if she had any idea about the Gravity Generator or about the Astral Knight he'd inevitably run into at one point or another here on Starlight.

That, and he could really use some backup for the security guards currently breathing down his neck.

The first time Bomberman had tried to enter Tolbi Casino, he'd been rightly caught out for not having a valid ID to prove he was of age to get inside. He wasn't going to argue with it, and was just going to sit outside for a bit to figure out another plan. But then Pommy had apparently seen something shiny pass through on the opposite end of the entrance, and he'd promptly darted through after it. Against his better judgment, Bomberman had gone to get Pommy back...and thus the current situation.

_Gotta admit, though...it __**did**__ get me inside, _Bomberman thought as he hopped onto the railing of an upwards moving escalator and sprinted up it.

"Ow! What the—"

"Sorry about that, mister!" Bomberman called as he accidentally stepped on the hand of a young man riding the escalator.

Four security guards were waiting for him at the top. "Hold it right there, young man!" one of them called. "You'll be coming with us!"

"Sorry, I've got better things to do!" Bomberman set off a smoke bomb, filling the immediate area with dark clouds. He leapt to the ground and made a breakaway. When he could see again, he found himself in a skyway, with a view of space and other parts of Starlight through the windows. He fired off apology after apology to startled guests as he attempted to get through the narrow path with the least amount of damage possible.

The end of the skyway led into the wide, airy lobby of what looked like a very high-end hotel. The hotel was arranged in such a manner that one could see each level and the doors to the rooms from the ground floor. Walkways to the four sides of the square-shaped floors radiated out from a central elevator shaft.

But Bomberman didn't want to risk getting caught just because he was waiting for an elevator. He broke into a running start, hopped onto a short pillar surrounding a graceful dolphin fountain, and—taking full advantage of Draegaria's little present to him—leapt clear to the third level, landing unsteadily on one of the rectangular planting boxes. Once he had righted himself, he jumped to a sixth level walkway, and then to the eighth level, hopping right over a metal railing. He spotted an open door to one of the hotel rooms, and made a run for it, quickly slamming a palm to the door's control panel to close it. "Ugh..." He leaned back against the door and wiped some sweat from his face. "I guess we're safe for the moment."

"Myu," Pommy grumbled, jumping from Bomberman's arms and staring up at him. "All Pommy wanted was a martini!"

Bomberman glared at Pommy. "I doubt you could hold your alcohol, marshmallow."

Pommy glared right back. "Oh, and Bomberman can?"

"I don't drink."

"Because Bomberman can't hold his alcohol!" Pommy smirked and stuck his nose in the air. "Is the alcohol too heavy for Bomberman?"

There came a startled female gasp. "Oh, my...I certainly wasn't expecting more visitors today."

"Gah!" Realizing that he had just intruded on someone's borrowed private space, Bomberman opened the door and started to run for it again, only to hear the stamping of feet and the chattering of voices from down the hall. Not bothering to check who they were, he backtracked inside, closed the door...and was met with the vision of a pink-haired young woman clad only in a fluffy white towel, her hair and skin damp with shower mist. "Aah!" he exclaimed, clenching his eyes shut and pressing his face to the nearest wall. "S-sorry, miss! I didn't...I wasn't...it's n-not what you think...!"

A soft giggle. "Oh, it's fine. I'll get decent." A door clicked shut.

Bomberman gulped. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Of _course_ someone would've been in the room! Now how he was going to explain things to the occupant? Admittedly, she was taking it surprisingly well...after all, she hadn't even screamed or called him names or tried to beat him to death...

"All right, it's okay now," the young woman said.

Bomberman looked. He found himself faced with the sight of the young woman wearing a matching set of bra and panties in pink with white lace. "Ack!" His cheeks burned bright with embarrassment, and he whirled right back around, putting his hands to his face.

She giggled again. "What's the matter? All the naughty bits are covered, aren't they?"

"Y-yeah," Bomberman stuttered, "but..."

"Myuuu," Pommy sighed dreamily. "She has nice—"

Bomberman kicked Pommy. "Dammit, cover your eyes, will you? Don't be staring at her like that!"

"Color me shocked! A male with respect for feminine modesty? You're a rare one, that's for sure!" There was a rustling of soft fabric. "Okay, then, I promise it's okay to look now."

Cautiously, Bomberman turned around and peeked through his fingers. The young woman was wearing a magenta silk robe that reached to just above her knees. It hugged her body rather snugly, but at least she was covered. Still, Bomberman tried his best not to look too much at her...which was proving to be quite difficult. "A-anyway," he began, lowering his hands, "like I said, sorry about...you know...this and all that."

The young woman sat on her bed and crossed her legs gracefully. "Can I ask what happened?"

_She really is taking this amazingly well,_ Bomberman thought, surprised. He wondered why she was so calm when some guy she didn't know had just barged into her room when she had barely gotten out of the shower. Was it a common occurrence for her?

_Well, with looks like that, no wonder!_ a voice in his head sniggered.

Bomberman promptly strangled that voice and decided it was better not to question Lady Luck when she was obviously in a good mood. He explained: "I wasn't going to go into the casino at all, 'cause the guards had me pegged for no ID, but then he"—he motioned at Pommy—"ran inside and I had to get him, and...well..."

There was a sharp knock at the door.

"Eek!" Pommy squeaked. "The guards found us!"

"Hey, open the door!" It was another female voice. "I've got the ice that you wanted."

The young woman stood up. "Oh, don't worry!" she said cheerfully to Bomberman and Pommy. "It's just a friend of mine." She walked over and opened the doors to reveal a tall, slender woman with long hair of pale lavender, dressed in jeans and a fitted teal T-shirt with a silver design on it. "Thanks a bunch, Zo," she said, taking the silver bucket of ice that was handed to her and bringing it over to a mini-fridge.

Zo flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled. "No problem!" She suddenly noticed Bomberman and Pommy nearby. "What's this? Were you trying to...get a little something-something from some rich momma's boy while I was gone?"

"You wish! Nah, he just happened to be running from security and must've seen the door that you left open, so he came in here to hide."

An exaggerated gasp. "Even worse! You're housing a wanted criminal?"

The young woman rolled her lavender eyes. "He only wanted his pet back."

"Is that so? I can certainly see why!" Zo knelt down and patted Pommy on the head.

"But...but Pommy's not a—" Pommy started.

"Yes, we know, you're a mimic," Bomberman interrupted, annoyed. "But I've yet to see you mimic much of anything besides bad comebacks."

"Bomberman's just jealous because Pommy gets all the cute girls," Pommy shot back.

Bomberman grabbed a small pillow off a chair nearby and smacked Pommy with it.

"...aha," Zo said slowly, raising a hand to tap a graceful finger to her chin. "So _that's_ how it is, is it?"

"How 'what' is, Zo?" But there was something conspiratorial about the young woman's tone that suggested total knowledge about what Zo was referring to.

"I guess I'd better run," Zo suddenly said. "Places to go, paperwork to sign, incompetent males to bitchslap. None of those things do themselves, after all!"

"Of course, of course. Do what you need to do—far be it from me to stop you."

"Same to you, love. See you later!" And with one last wink—directed at Bomberman, surprisingly—Zo left, the doors sliding shut behind her.

"Hey, um..." Bomberman pointed at the door. "Was it really all right for your friend to...?"

The young woman waved him off. "It'll be fine. Zo and I are often on the same wavelength. She won't tell a soul."

There was something horribly, horribly off about the situation right now, Bomberman knew. Did he dare try to find out what it was? He took a breath. "Well, um...I guess we'll just be leaving now, then. Thanks for being so nice about all this. We won't bother you anymore, I promise."

"Not interested in seeing Tolbi, I presume?"

Bomberman blinked. "Huh?"

The young woman smiled at him. "Come on, why not? You're here already. I've got time to kill. I'll take you around! There's some places I need to be at later, anyway."

Bomberman shook his head. "Gotta do some other things. And anyway, the guards might see me and kick me out, and you'll get in trouble..."

Again the young woman waved off his concern. "Being a popular headlining singer here—as well as the love interest of some Very Important People at Tolbi—gets me certain privileges." She extended a hand. "Zhael, here."

Bomberman took her hand. "I'm Bomberman, and this round thing is Pommy."

"It's nice to meet Zhael!" Pommy chirped, jumping up and down.

"And it's quite nice to meet the both of you." Zhael stretched back, and Bomberman had to look away again. She giggled. "Let me get changed, and then we'll head out. That sound all right with you?"


	29. Starlight: Brawl in the Buffet

The festival-like grandeur of Tolbi Casino was better appreciated by Bomberman now that he didn't have to run for his freedom (though he still kept a careful eye out and kept his head down when he could). Dazzling neon lights in a rainbow of colors were everywhere: the ceiling, the walls, the game machines, sometimes even on the floor. There were four main wings of the casino and seven levels. The four wings were each enthusiastically themed on the elements of fire, water, earth, and air. Besides the usual casino fare of card tables and gambling machines, each wing also had special features that corresponded to their respective element, such as various sorts of gardens in the earth wing's exhibition level and an impressive water park in the water wing's relaxation level.

Zhael herself was as impressive as the casino, though in an entirely different way. She proved to be a cheerful, outgoing person without going overboard on either trait, and once Bomberman got over his initial embarrassment at having seen her in her lacy underthings (made easier by the fact that she was now in a printed shirt, solid color capris, and flats), he was put at ease by her presence. Pommy, of course, took to her quite well, but Bomberman barely noticed as he and Zhael talked about...well, a lot of things. Actually, Zhael did most of the talking, but she did so in such a casual manner that Bomberman didn't mind at all. He learned that her full name was Zhaeliara Tsumaris Tazuki, but she used the stage name "Odessa Chen" because she felt that her own name was the epitome of rural living and unsophistication. This surprised the hell out of Bomberman, who thought that her name, while a little on the long side, was nice enough. Before he got a chance to pass on that compliment, though, he then learned that she had been a farmer's daughter in a nowhere town on the planet Zelkova in the Thalian Empire (_Why did those places sound familiar?_ Bomberman wondered), and that she ran away from home with nothing but two sets of clothes, a photo album, and some money in order to make her living singing and playing music, either her own or others'. This was promptly followed by a string of anecdotes about the peaks and perils of living such a life. Zhael said that while she hadn't quite reached ultrastardom yet, she was getting there.

"There's still so much I have to learn," she said as they exited the water wing of Tolbi. "About singing, about songwriting, about the business...I'm pretty lucky to have gotten this far."

Bomberman smiled. "It'd be nice to hear you sing, you know."

"Pommy agrees!" Pommy piped up.

Zhael hummed thoughtfully. "I'll see if I can't find a way to get you two into my performance tonight without causing a ruckus," she said. "The tickets to my shows are rather pricy, and open only to casino patrons—you've got to show your membership card to the sellers, which is something I assume that you don't have and can't get."

"If it's too much trouble, then don't worry about it," Bomberman insisted. "It's been nice just talking to you."

"The sentiment's returned. I'm sure that it'll be no big deal, but in case things come to worst..." She grinned and leaned in close to Bomberman, whispering in his ear. "I could always show you the unofficial way of getting in."

"Oh, like I need another reason for the casino guards to come after me," Bomberman responded, but his tone was playful.

"Is there anything to eat, myu?" Pommy suddenly asked. "Pommy's hungry!"

Zhael checked her watch, a rhinestone-encrusted thing with a purple leather band. "There's a buffet on the lowest floor of the main part of the casino. We can drop in for something to eat and still have time for me to show you around the rest of the casino before I have to go for sound check tonight."

The main atrium of the casino, in addition to connecting the four elemental wings, also led down to a high-end buffet, with what seemed like an acre of culinary selections and twice as much seating space. Even with a giant fountain in the center, where fishes and turtles swam amongst the coin donations on the bottom and sparkling water flowed over a metal sculpture shaped like a house of cards, the atmosphere was cozy without being hectically claustrophobic. The Tolbi Casino membership card was usually required for entry, but Zhael must have had something special on hers, for she flashed the silver card at one of the entrance cashiers. The cashier nodded at her, Zhael nodded at Bomberman and Pommy, and the three of them were allowed to waltz on through.

"It's all you can eat, so make sure you eat all you can," Zhael chirped as they took a corner table in a relatively unoccupied section of the dining area. "Everything's on my bill, but this is my treat to you two, anyway."

"Yay!" Pommy was beside himself with glee. "Pommy will go see what they have at the buffet! Pommy bets it's good!" He skipped off, weaving in and out of the legs of the other patrons to get at the food.

Bomberman leaned over to Zhael. "I hope you realize that you just gave him a free pass to devour the entire casino...slot machines and neon lights included."

Zhael laughed. "Oh, come on. How much can such a cute, tiny thing eat?"

"You ever hear of an 8-inch-tall living marshmallow named Kirby?"

By the time Bomberman was on dessert (a slice of chocolate cake with vanilla frosting and two sliced strawberries on top), Pommy was still shuttling plates of entrees back and forth between the buffet and the table. This time, he'd even managed to balance a plate of three slices of different types of cakes on his head.

"So tell me something," Bomberman said in between bites of cake. "Do you have a pan-dimensional stomach or something? Because that's the only way I can fathom you eating everything that I've seen you eat ever since we first started traveling together."

Pommy hopped onto his seat and put down his plates before answering. "Pommy just has a fast metabolism, myu!"

"Then you must have a metabolism faster than lightning," Zhael said, amused. "I'm jealous."

Pommy stopped in the middle of eating his pasta. "Myu? Why is Zhael jealous?"

Zhael only reached out and scratched Pommy's head; he went back to his food. To Bomberman, she said, "Hey, I'm going to have to make a visit to the ladies' room. You all right with that?"

Bomberman laughed. "I don't see what would stop me from saying otherwise."

Zhael smiled gently at him before she rose and walked away.

Bomberman picked off one of the strawberries on his cake and popped it into his mouth, chewing it over as he leaned an elbow on the table and idly did some people-watching. He marveled at the sheer variety of species currently feasting and enjoying themselves. Soon, though, he was once again thinking about the predicament rudely dropped onto his head by the whims of circumstance. At least now it seemed like someone up there (or down there?) was looking out for him. How else would he have ended up with a free pass into a resort casino with a cute girl as his guide?

It suddenly occurred to him that Zhael was the perfect person to ask about current events on Starlight. Hadn't she said that she was a frequent performer here? Surely then she should know if anything odd had been happening as of late. Bomberman had been too distracted by the liveliness of everything, including Zhael herself, to have brought up the subject before, but he made a note to himself to ask her about it when she came back. Until then, though, he let his gaze wander some more...and it ran straight into two security guards steadily making their way over to his table.

"Crap," Bomberman muttered. "I _knew_ my good luck couldn't last." Not breaking eye contact with the guards, he slowly pushed out his chair...put his hands on the table...started to get up...

"Freeze!" one of the guards shouted. Both of them pulled out silver handguns.

Bomberman grabbed Pommy's plate of cake and threw it like a frisbee.

_WHOOOSSSH-SPLAT!_

It hit straight home in the face of the first guard, splattering frosting and cake everywhere. His gun accidentally went off and fired plasma shots into the floor. Buffet-goers screamed; there was a mad rush for the stairs.

"Myu!" Pommy protested, his mouth smeared with tomato sauce. "Pommy didn't even get to eat that yet!"

Before the other guard had even started firing ("Myu!" Pommy cried, picking up an empty cup and putting it over his head as the shots whizzed by), Bomberman had leapt over the table, snatched up a chair, and hurled it at the guard, bowling him over and sending him crashing into a table.

The first guard had managed to wipe the food off his face and was back for revenge. Bomberman threw a low-power flash bomb. It missed the guard, but exploded on the floor behind him, distracting him long enough for Bomberman to rush up, grab a plate of what looked like clam shells, and smash it on the side of the guard's head, knocking him unconscious.

"Hraaaagh!" The second guard took the chair that Bomberman had thrown at him and hurled it right back.

Bomberman sidestepped. The chair landed upside down behind him. He hopped back onto it as the second guard rushed up, ready to strike. He flipped up, planted his palms on the guard's shoulders, then—as he was on the downwards path of the flip—grabbed the guard by his clothes and swung him up and over his head, slamming him into the floor.

_WHAM!_

The guard was out like a light.

But by then, more guards had scrambled inside, about ten or fifteen in total. All were in black, with eye scanners. The front line had laser handguns charged and ready to fire.

_These guys can't be from the casino,_ Bomberman realized, narrowing his eyes as he surveyed his situation._What kind of place sends out an entire team just to catch some alleged punk-ass kid? And they're not even telling the others to evacuate,_ he added when he spotted a crowd of fearful buffet patrons hovering near the kitchens and behind the sushi and grill counters. Bomberman scowled. _I know who these guys are._

"Bomberman!" one of the guards called out as the team slowly advanced on Bomberman. "You are hereby under arrest as a fugitive from Alcatraz Prison and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard the spiel before," Bomberman retorted. "Arrest_this,_ jerks!" He threw out the wind superbomb that he'd been charging behind his back. The blast sent the entire team of guards flying more than halfway across the room in all directions. Some landed in the fountain—_KER-SPLASH!_—while others tumbled into tables or were simply just knocked silly. Bomberman conjured another wind bomb, but a laser shot exploded the bomb in his hand, causing _him_ to fly across the floor, over tables and chairs (_CRASH-BAM-SLA-MASH-KA-WHAM!_), and finally land in the middle of the buffet area.

The next few moments were chaos as Bomberman attempted to shake off his would-be captors. Once he'd gotten back onto his feet, he grabbed the salad cart and shoved it into three guards. It capsized on impact, scattering vegetables and dressing and ice cubes upon the tile floor.

_CRRRASSSH!_

Bomberman sprinted up, jumped onto the overturned cart, and tossed three ice bombs into the central fountain, freezing in place the guards who had been unlucky enough to fall into it. He stumbled off as a round of laser fire ripped into the space that his body had once occupied. He whirled around, flung out two wind bombs...then slipped on the dressing-drenched tiled floor and hit his head. _WHAM!_

A guard promptly came up to a disoriented, grimacing Bomberman and pointed his gun at Bomberman's head. "Party's over, buddy," he sneered.

"Hold it!" the lead guard called out. "The Storm Mistress said she wanted him alive!"

"Huh?"

"Nice to know I'm loved," remarked Bomberman. "HAH!" His foot shot out to shove the guard away, and he helicopter-kicked himself back into a standing position. He tried to make a getaway, but another guard popped up, gun at the ready. Bomberman smacked the pistol away with one hand and smashed the guard's face into a steaming tray of beef stew with the other. He rolled over the guard's back to kick out at another guard, then grabbed a pair of metal tongs and shoved the flat ends into the face of a third, blinding him with hot grease. Leaving behind an ice bomb (_BLAAAM!_), Bomberman ran to the end of that particular buffet booth and grabbed a couple of plates that he tossed out to deflect some of the laser fire and to pelt nearby guards with. Amidst a shower of shattered porcelain and white-hot plasma, he dove over the booth and pressed his back up against its side for protection, breathing deeply.

_I gotta get out quick,_ Bomberman thought. _They might've already called reinforcements, and if I stayed I'd be stuck here forever. But I can't leave without Pommy—he's probably still over by the table._ His brow furrowed as he struggled to remember what the layout of the restaurant was like around their general seating area, and tried to plan an escape route.

The guards weren't going to give him much time to think things over. Four of them were steadily approaching the food booth that Bomberman was currently hiding behind, and two of them had a gun. "You might wanna come out with your hands up," one of them suggested with a sneer.

They were answered with a wind superbomb.

_WHOOOOSSSH!_

Bomberman rolled to his feet and sprinted from his hiding place, heading back towards his table. A guard jumped out from behind a table and tried to ambush him; he only got a flash bomb in his face for his efforts. "Pommy!" Bomberman called. "We gotta move it!"

"B-but what about Zhael?"

"We'll catch up to her later! Now run for it if you're not too fat from all that eating you've been doing!"

Bomberman led Pommy towards a set of stairs opposite to where they had first entered. Realizing that the casino was built similar to the hotel, Bomberman grabbed Pommy by his ears and bounced his way to the higher levels, eliciting amazed gasps from onlookers as he leapt from railing to railing. Once on the highest level, though, Bomberman wasn't sure of where to go next, and he was suddenly regretting his little flying stunt since no one could have missed him jumping entire levels with a single leap. He speedwalked along into what looked like the air wing of Tolbi, and soon spotted a sign directing him to the restrooms. He followed the blinking arrow and ducked into the men's washroom, holing himself up in one of the stalls.

"What now, Bomberman?" Pommy whispered.

Bomberman shook his head. "No clue. But we have to keep moving, or at least find a secure place to hide. Those weren't the casino guards after us; they were from the BHB Army."

"So they won't stop until they find us, right?" Pommy's ears drooped. He reached up for the toilet paper and wiped his face with it. "Zhael will be mad at us for leaving her, myu."

"I doubt it. Zhael knew what the situation was with us two. She'll probably figure out what happened once she gets back to the table...though I feel bad about leaving her hanging, too." Bomberman heard other voices in the restroom, and he suddenly got an idea. "Hey!" he yelled, poking his head out of the stall and startling two men using the urinals. "Either of you know anything about an Odessa Chen performance tonight?"

The two men looked at each other. "She usually plays in the Atalanta Auditorium, right?" one of them said.

"The one right down this hall? Yeah."

"When's showtime?" Bomberman asked.

"Seven o'clock, I think."

"And what time is it now?"

The younger of the two men looked at his watch. "Almost four o'clock."

"Right. Thanks!" Bomberman bolted for the door, with Pommy following right behind.

"Hey, sonny!" the older man called. "Ain'tcha gonna wash yer hands first?"

Sheepishly, Bomberman trudged back to the sinks and did just that, even drying his hands under the dryer before heading out.

"Why are we leaving now, myu?" Pommy asked, skipping close behind Bomberman. "Zhael won't sing until seven!"

"She's going to have to do sound check," answered Bomberman, heading deeper into Tolbi's air wing. He dodged a couple of floating hologram screens that advertised the merits of Tolbi Casino and various brands of cigarettes and alcohol. "My friend Megumi sometimes plays in a punk rock band, and they have to get to the venue ridiculously early for that sort of thing. So I'm going to see if we can catch up with Zhael at the auditorium."

"Myu, great idea!"

After walking along for a few minutes, always on the alert for black-suited security guards, Bomberman found a digital map of the casino's layout and picked out the path he'd have to take to the Atalanta Auditorium. Just in case, he also took a look at the floor plans for the rest of the casino. He didn't know how much of it he would remember, but it would be good to have at least a passing familiarity with this place.

"Myu, Bomberman." Pommy, who was standing on top of the map screen, pointed one of his ears discreetly in a direction. "Pommy sees someone coming."

Bomberman glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, there were three BHB soldiers walking the premises, stern-faced and ready to destroy. "Right. Let's move."

They scampered off, swimming through the thick, roiling sea of casino patrons. It was even more packed in this area than Bomberman had seen in other parts of Tolbi. At least it allowed them to blend in better with everyone else. But it would make for hard going if they had to run again, and it took forever to get through. By the time Bomberman and Pommy arrived at their destination, the entrance and the immediate area was choked with people waiting to get in line once the ticket sellers opened.

"Look at that!" Pommy exclaimed. "Everyone wants to see Zhael sing!"

Bomberman scanned his surroundings the best he could with people everywhere. There had to be an alternate entrance or something similar somewhere that he could use to sneak in, although he wasn't sure about the type of security they would have. He consulted another casino map nearby to jog his memory. "There's a hallway that leads to the backstage entrance. We'll have to backtrack and swing around to get to it."

To their dismay, the doors leading to the backstage area were staffed both by casino security guards and a card reader. "Double the security, double the fun," Bomberman remarked.

"What'll we do?" Pommy whispered.

Bomberman took a second careful look down the hall, peeking around a large potted plant. "We might be able to ambush them and take their clearance cards to get in."

"Clearance cards? Does Bomberman mean the things they have hanging around their necks?"

Bomberman grinned. "Why don't we check?"

B-O-M-B

**Odessa Chen is the name of an actual singer, whose dreamy, ethereal voice fits rather well for my personal version of Zhael. Check her out at http://www(.)odessachen(.)com!**


	30. Starlight: Winter Befriends Me

"I swear," one of the guards grumbled, "Tolbi needs to start allowing members to buy performance tickets online. Especially for someone like Odessa freakin' Chen! Did you see the people out there? It's ridiculous!"

His companion nodded, reaching up to fix a few stray strands of reddish-brown hair. "Yeah. But Tolbi was always big on display and low on practicality, you know? I'm surprised they haven't decided to stage a gladiator tournament out in the lobby amongst the audience members, with the winners being the ones who get the tickets to get inside."

"Ha! There's a way to thin the crowds."

"M-myu...?" A small, round creature with floppy ears was coming down the hall, looking lost. "Where is Pommy?"

There was a pause. "Hey, Isaac," the red-haired guard said, "any idea what that thing is?"

Isaac shrugged. "Beats me. But you always see strange things like this around here anyway." He called out. "Hey, you there! This is a restricted area! Only those with Odessa Chen tonight are allowed to pass through!"

Pommy perked up. "Myu! Pommy's been looking for Odessa!" He ran up to the guards. "Can Pommy go in?"

"You got your pass?"

Pommy looked upset. "What? Pommy needs a pass? But Pommy is Odessa's new mimic—er, pet!"

Isaac and his friend looked at each other. "Stay with him, Garet," Isaac said. "I'll go talk to Odessa and see if it checks out." He took the card hanging around his neck on a lanyard, pressed it to the card reader, and passed through the doors.

Garet smirked down at Pommy. "So you're Odessa's pet, eh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Let me tell you, if that's true, there are a _lot_ of guys out there who would kill you for that role."

Pommy cowered. "Myu! Don't kill Pommy!"

Garet laughed. "I won't, don't worry. I'll just watch jealously from a distance." His head snapped up as he spotted someone else coming towards him at a sprint. "H-hey! Hey, you, you're not allowed to come through here unless you're with—"

_WHACK!_ Bomberman sent Garet flying to the side with an airborne roundhouse kick. Garet stumbled into a wall, disoriented. Bomberman followed up with a foot to the groin, then snatched the clearance card off Garet's lanyard clip. "All right, Pommy, let's go!" Bomberman called, smacking the card to the reader and shoving the door open once it was unlocked.

"S-send backup to...to Atalanta b-backstage entrance..." came Garet's strained voice from behind them, followed by radio static.

Bomberman and Pommy hurried down the bare corridor to another set of double doors, also locked with a reader. Bomberman stuck the card to the reader, and once the door unlocked, Bomberman kicked it open. The door swung out and hit an incoming Isaac right in his head, knocking him unconscious. _WHAM!_

Bomberman blinked down at him, then hopped over his prone body and continued running through what looked like the backstage of the auditorium's backstage. He ignored the strange looks he got from people who were bustling in and out of various doors or fiddling with large carts of sound and lighting equipment.

Pommy jumped up to grab at the bottom of Bomberman's sweatshirt and clambered up to his shoulder. "Pommy hears something up ahead!"

"What?"

"Someone's singing!"

"I can't hear anything."

Pommy gestured. "Pommy thinks it's coming from over there. We should make a left at the second intersection up ahead!"

The pair scurried along. Step by step, Bomberman began to see—or hear, rather—what Pommy was talking about. A lovely melody was filtering in from somewhere ahead, a clear female voice accompanied by piano.

_"Always I am mistaken...I look for love, I find a stone. Of all the seasons, winter befriends me."_

"Myu! Myu! That's Zhael!" Pommy squealed.

"Quiet down, will you?" Bomberman snapped. "I can't hear her!"

_"I come to you in friendship and hold my breath against the snow. What are you thinking as I gaze into you?"_

Bomberman turned where Pommy had indicated. At the end of that particular hall was a large set of double doors, which judging from the volume of Zhael's singing seemed to lead out into the auditorium. So as not to disturb what was going on, Bomberman slowed to a walk before pushing the doors open as quietly as possible.

He stepped out onto a large, semicircular steel stage. The tall frescoed ceiling and glass-covered walls of Atalanta Auditorium were lit with an array of cool white lights that glowed from in large cloud-shaped glass baubles of varying sizes. Beneath the light blue plush of the audience seats and aisle runners, the clear glass floor, sliced through with metal beams, was filled with swirling white smoke, some of which leaked out above the floor and settled gently there, filtering out the soft glow of the lights below the glass. There were also seating sections that floated on gently slanted platforms in the air above some of the aisle intersections.

In the center of the stage, sitting at a beautiful white piano under a spotlight, was Zhael.

_"Forgive me the confusion; forgive me as I realize my thoughts betrayed. You are the answer, cry and smile the same..." _Her voice rose to a brilliant crescendo, and she swayed in time to the accompaniment she played on the piano. _"Overcome me, baby...overcome me, baby..."_

"She's so cool..." Pommy murmured.

_"Overcome me, baby, overcome me, yeah..."_

_She's amazing,_ Bomberman thought in wonder.

_"All I'm asking is to be...all I'm asking is to be alive..."_

After finishing the last few delicate chords, Zhael turned out towards the audience. "How's that?" she asked.

"Great as usual, Odessa!" someone called back. "We just need to do a few more adjustments, and we're going to need to see how you and the keyboard sound against strings and percussion. But you can take a break now if you need to."

Zhael smiled and got up from the piano bench. She gasped quietly when she saw Bomberman and Pommy standing behind her. "Oh! Th-there you are, you two!"

Bomberman simpered. "Sorry about what happened down at the buffet," he apologized. "Someone with a grudge recognized me and tried to cause trouble."

"Oh, no, that's totally fine. I understand. I'm just glad you're all right." She hugged Bomberman briefly, then stepped back and tilted her head to the side. "Although, how did you manage get in here?"

"Erm...well...you see..."

"There he is!" Casino security guards, led by a still-grimacing Garet, filed in from the back of the auditorium.

"Eek!" Pommy hid behind Zhael.

Zhael laughed. "How convenient to have the explanation come right to us." She addressed the guards. "It's all right, boys! These two are with me."

The guards looked at each other. Garet stepped forward. "Beg pardon, Miss Chen," he started, "but it's not really in the rules to..."

"It's in the rules of Mr. Tolbi himself," Zhael said sharply, "so take it on my word. Though, of course, you are perfectly free to take your concerns to him yourselves if such minor annoyances ruffle your tail feathers."

Resigned, the guards filed right back out, some of them shaking their heads and grumbling.

Bomberman let out a relieved breath. "Thanks again, Zhael. I really need to find a way to pay you back somehow."

"Ha! That's easy! All you have to do is enjoy my show." She pointed. "Pick any seat you like right here in the front, and I'll make the necessary arrangements with the relevant authorities."

"We'll get front row seats?" Pommy asked. "That's awesome! Though..." He affected a thoughtfully sly expression. "It would be even more awesome if Pommy could be on stage, like Zhael."

Bomberman glared. "You don't know when to stop, do you?"

Zhael laughed and knelt down to pet Pommy. "Well, while we're doing sound check, you can come play with me."

"Really? Yay!" Pommy turned to Bomberman, eyes shining with glee. "Did you hear that, Bomberman? Zhael wants Pommy to play with her! She thinks Pommy is a star!"

Bomberman rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Am I the only person who seems to have any amount of concern about the state of Pommy's ego?"

"Don't be so hard on such an adorable little thing," Zhael said, smiling. "It just makes you look jealous." She suddenly went quiet. "Say, um...you're not...like...doing anything later, are you? After the performance?"

Now it was Bomberman's turn to be curious. "Why do you ask?"

Zhael glanced down. "I was just wondering if you'd...you know...like to go out afterwards," she said, clasping her hands together shyly. "Dinner or something, and then maybe hang out at my place for a while." She looked up at Bomberman again. "What do you think?"

Bomberman stared at her, completely flabbergasted. _She...she's asking me out on a date, right? Right?_ He swallowed and let out a shaky laugh. "Well, ah...I..." _Aah! What should I say?_

_No!_ a niggling voice in his mind said. _You need to get back on track. Find the Astral Knight and the Gravity Generator and get the hell out!_

This voice was promptly smacked aside by another one. _Oh, come on, there couldn't be any harm in it,_ it argued. _You can catch up with Lilith tomorrow! And the Astral Knight and the generator won't be going anywhere. Well, the generator won't, anyway, and the Astral Knight is bound to show up sooner or later._

"We're not going to do anything _bad_, if that's what's got you so hung up," Zhael reassured him with a mischievous smile. She reached out and touched his arm. "I just think it would be nice to talk with you some more, that's all."

Without even thinking, Bomberman took her hand in his. "Well, I guess when you put it that way..."

"Wait! Don't go, Bomberman!"

At the sound of Lilith's authoritative voice, Bomberman suddenly dropped Zhael's hand like a piece of moldy meat. "L-Lilith?"

Lilith landed gracefully on the stage, having jumped from the rafters above. "Don't go with her," she warned. "She wants the Elemental Stones. She was probably going to steal them from you later tonight!"

Before Bomberman could even ask what Lilith was talking about, the air sparked with static as Zhael's temper flared. "Bitch," she hissed. "How dare you butt in on something that's none of your business!" She swung her arm to hurl a bolt of pink lightning at the redhead.

Lilith swiftly sidestepped the attack. The bolt crashed into the floor offstage, singing the carpet and leaving a half-melted scorch mark on the glass. "Not on our best performance today, are we?" she remarked dryly.

Zhael snarled. "I'll teach you to talk back to _me_, demon whore!" She rushed past a startled Bomberman, her hands crackling with lightning. "_HAH!_"

Lilith dodged the second bolt flung her way, and ducked to avoid a punch. But before she could get up to retaliate, Zhael drove a charged elbow into Lilith's spine.

_ZZZT!_

"Lilith!" Bomberman and Pommy shouted.

Lilith let out a strangled cry as the electricity coursed through her body. Her eyes widened. She crumpled to the floor, twitching slightly before lying still.

"Feh." Zhael spat on the now-unconscious Lilith. "Stupid slut thinks she can prance around and do whatever the hell she damn well feels like just because she's got the body for it." She kicked Lilith hard in the side, sending her tumbling to the edge of the stage. "Not on my best performance, you say?" Zhael jumped off and bent down to grab Lilith by her shirt. "I beg to differ, you little tramp!"

Lilith only responded with a soft groan. Zhael smirked.

A crowd had begun to form around the perimeter of the auditorium, curious about the sudden commotion. "Er...is everything all right over there, Odessa?" the sound engineer called. "Should I call secu—"

_Z-ZAP! _Zhael swung around and fired a second bolt at him. He fell with a choking sort of sound, also twitching. Those nearby him scrambled to his aid; others glared at Zhael with all the hatred reserved for divas who did as they pleased.

"_None_ of you are to interfere here," Zhael said slowly. Her words carried clearly across the room, even though she had lowered her voice to a dangerous shadow of what it once had been. "I don't care what anyone—not even Mr. Tolbi himself—says. I hold no responsibility for anyone who gets caught in the crossfire should they be suicidal enough to cross this realm from here on out. _Is...this...__**understood**__?_"

A flurry of panicked nods.

"Then get yourselves out of my pathetic sight, and make yourself useful by keeping everyone else out, no matter who they are! Use Kershul over there as an example to those who would think to defy my orders!"

Within mere seconds, Atalanta Auditorium was empty save for Zhael, Bomberman, Lilith, and Pommy.

Bomberman had watched these all of these events transpire with the vague notion that maybe he had simply fallen into an opposite yet parallel world through a second black hole. "Z-Zhael...what are you...?"

Zhael turned to him with a smile that could have frozen lava. "Oh, I'm sorry—I must not have introduced myself properly earlier!" she chirped. She bowed, her pink hair falling over her heart-shaped face. "Zhael, called Mistress of the Storm. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

In Bomberman's mind, a BHB guard had just snarled: _The Storm Mistress said she wanted him alive! _

"You..." he breathed, suddenly feeling his entire body go numb. "_You_ were the one who called the guards on me at the buffet?"

Zhael hummed. "I may have, I may have not. Not that it matters at this moment." She twirled and pointed over at where Lilith's body lay. "That demon bitch over there ruined my lovely plans for you, so now we have to do things the hard way." She sighed, but it was clear that she was taking a perverse pleasure in Lilith's current condition.

_It was Zhael. Zhael was the Astral Knight here all along. Her._ It was all Bomberman could do to keep himself from reducing the entire place to rubble in a fit of despairing rage. _Dammit! Damn it all to hell and back! Why does it have to be __**her**__? _He didn't want to believe it. The cold-hearted woman who had just electrocuted Lilith and an innocent bystander couldn't be the same person as the Zhael who had shown him around Tolbi, treated him to lunch, and invited him on a possible date...could it? "Why are you working for the BHB Army?" Bomberman asked, trying to maintain a steady tone to his voice.

She pretended to consider the question. "Why am I working for the BHB Army," she repeated. She giggled haughtily. "Because my dear Master Rukifellth asked me to! After all, how could I turn down such a simple request from the man I love? It's as simple as that."

So much for the "date." _The man she loves? _"But the BHB Army has caused so much damage across so many different planets. So many people killed, so many others hurt or wounded, so much collateral damage..." Bomberman's fists clenched as he spoke. He forced himself to keep his gaze on Zhael; funny how that seemed so hard to do now. "Doesn't that bother you?"

Zhael blinked. "Why should it? It makes Master Rukifellth happy." Before Bomberman could even think to be horrified at the finality and casualness of her logic, she held up a finger and said, "Now let me ask _you_ a question, dearest Bomberman: I don't suppose a charming young man like you would be inclined to _willingly_ give your Elemental Stones to a charming young lady like myself, would you?"

Barely able to speak, Bomberman just shook his head slowly.

Zhael approached him. Bomberman stepped back, suspicious and wary. She pouted before exhaling another dramatically sad sigh. "Oh, very well, if you're going to be so difficult about things, here's what we'll do. Since you were _so_ nice to me, I'll make you a deal. Give me the Stones, and I'll show you two a way out of this black hole."

Pommy, who had up until now been quiet with shock and fear, found the strength to speak up again. "If w-we give the Stones to Zhael, we can get out of here?"

"Sure. I can negotiate something with the dear master. As long as we have the Stones, he'll be pleased."

Bomberman could only laugh quietly. "I'm sorry, Zhael."

Zhael glared at him. "Do you _want_ a fight with me, boy?" she sneered. "You wouldn't be able to survive it, you know!"

"It's not that," Bomberman answered. "The Elemental Stones, for whatever reason, have become a part of my body. If you want them...you'll probably have to kill me first."

Zhael clapped her hands together. "Oh, if that isn't the most convenient thing! I was planning on killing you either way for being such a nuisance to Master Rukifellth! A rather adorable nuisance, I must admit, but a nuisance all the same." In a flurry of sparks, she transformed into her knight armor: an ensemble of white, black, purple, and fuschia. She gathered shimmering pink electricity into her purple-gloved hand. "You've clearly not felt the power of the storm...but that can easily be changed." She threw her hand out.

_ZZZT!_

Bomberman tripped on a retreating Pommy running from the oncoming onslaught of electricity. He recovered in time to spot Zhael summoning another electrical attack, and jumped off the stage to avoid it. Just as quickly, he hopped back on, only to find himself staring directly into the smirking face of Zhael.Struck by a painful sense of deja vu, Bomberman scurried backwards from her, hoping to avoid a subsequent attack.

"What's the matter? Can't hit a girl?" Zhael grinned like a feline. "I thank you for your chivalry. It'll make finishing you off that much easier!" She flicked her right hand. Long, shimmering wires of pink lightning suddenly extended from metal-covered fingertips.

Bomberman wasn't fast enough. The first snap of the wires sent him tumbling into the grand piano with a cacaphonic crash. The lid of the piano almost snapped down onto his hand before by some grand miracle his hand simply slipped out of the way. He scrambled to his feet. "Please," he pleaded, "we don't have to fight..."

"Don't you dare go soft on me, you bastard!" Zhael shouted, wielding her pink electrowires again. "You'd better fight like the man that you are or so help me I'll tear you limb from limb and fry you while doing so!"

_So does she want me to sit here and take it, or does she want me to fight back?_ Bomberman wondered. Ultimately, though, it was a rhetorical question.

Because he knew—with agonizing clarity—what he had to do.

B-O-M-B

**The song that Zhael sings prior to her fight scene is "Momentum" by Vienna Teng. It can be found on Teng's "Waking Hour" album, but a much better rendition, which I recorded when I saw her at Schuba's Tavern in Chicago in 2006, can be found on YouTube: http://youtube(.)com(/)watch?v=lhkpoAN0EpE. Check Vienna out at http(:)//www(.)viennateng(.)com!**


	31. Starlight: Mistress of the Storm

Zhael's electrowires snapped straight at Bomberman.

He ducked and tossed a wind bomb.

_WHOOOOSSH!_

The winds shoved Zhael backwards, causing her to tumble over herself and almost sending her over the edge of the stage. With a groan, she pulled herself back up, then re-extended the electrowires and flung them upwards.

_ZZZZTT-SNAP!_

They curled tightly around a rack of lights high above.

She leapt up and swung clear across the stage.

Bomberman slid behind the piano just as Zhael passed by and fired three successive bolts of lightning from her free hand. The bolts ended up as smoky, melted holes in the stage floor. As Zhael landed, Bomberman sprung back up and threw a smoke bomb at her.

_FWOOM!_

Zhael doubled over coughing from the fumes.

Before she could lash out with an attack, Bomberman's foot caught her behind her knees, and she fell onto her face.

_WHAM!_

He pulled up her right wrist in such a way as to lock her entire arm into a rather uncomfortable position, leaving her barely to flail about.

"...well," Zhael muttered, sounding halfway between amused and annoyed. "I had no idea you were into domination."

Bomberman twisted her wrist very slightly.

"Ack!" she yelped. Then she growled. "Ha – I _knew_ you had an inner asshole in there somewhere!" Her eyes flashed bright pink.

­_ZZZ-ZZZZZZTT-ZZT!_

The arm Bomberman was holding sizzled with electricity, paralyzing him for a few moments. Zhael yanked herself free, rolled onto her back, and swept out a fuschia-booted foot to trip Bomberman. _SWWWSH-WHAM!_

The shock of hitting the floor brought Bomberman back to his senses. Shaking off the lest vestiges of lightning in his system, he jumped to his feet...and promptly dropped back down to avoid a ball of electricity sailing by. But no sooner had he straightened up again than Zhael's electrowires caught him around his upper torso, burning into his shirt and skin.

"Hah!" Zhael flung him out into the seats with a graceful arc of her arm.

_FWOOOSH!_

At nearly the last moment, Bomberman flipped around and landed – somewhat shakily – on his feet on the armrests of one of the seats near the back of the auditorium.

Zhael flicked a wrist and tossed a bolt.

_ZZZT!_

Bomberman angled his body to the side, placing both of his feet on a single armrest, and just barely evaded the attack.

She spun, her long white skirt flaring with the movement, and tossed another bolt.

_ZZZZT!_

Bomberman hopped up and ran across the seats of the entire row to one of the main aisles.

Zhael growled and jumped off the stage, sprinting to roughly the center of the auditorium. "Thunderstrike!" she yelled, and she smacked a pink-sparkling palm to the floor.

_**KA-KRAAAAACK!!!**_

Startled, Bomberman fell back onto one of the seats.

Zhael swiftly perched herself onto a nearby armrest.

As the auditorium was still ringing with the sound of the thundercrack, all the glass – from the lights to the walls to the floor – suddenly shattered into innumerable glittering pieces.

_**CRAAAASSSSHHH!!!**_

Darkness fell like a curtain as most of the lights and their baubles exploded, pouring forth a rain of jagged shards and leaving only the faint aisle lights, some of the backstage lights, and a couple of lights beneath the floor to illuminate the place.

Bomberman quickly made his way under one of the floating seat sections to avoid most of the showering glass, but still incurred a couple of bleeding scratches in the process. Zhael protected herself with a shield of electricity.

Around the two of them, the glass from the walls crashed and jingled into prickly piles. The smoke from beneath the now-broken floor welled up like water from a new mountain spring, revealing that the "real" ground level was some four feet below where the seats were located. The grid of steel reinforcements were all that remained of the floor, with a couple of shards every so often still clinging stubbornly to the metal and the runners sagging into the gaps in the grid. One misstep, while not necessarily fatal, could nevertheless cost you a vital vein if Fortuna were feeling sadistic.

In the shadows, Zhael's electrowires cast a pink glow with a molten core of white as they snapped out again.

_KA-ZAAAP!_

Bomberman jumped back, carefully centering himself on one of the steel floor beams, but the strike was short by a few feet anyway. He followed the beam over to the center aisle to intercept Zhael with a wind bomb, but the bomb landed harmlessly behind her.

A few more steps...and they now stood directly in each other's line of attack.

She breathed.

He breathed.

She stomped a lightning-charged boot.

_Z-Z-ZAAAP!_

The electricity sparkled through the floor grid.

Bomberman managed to jump and land onto a seat, skipping back a bit to regain his balance.

Zhael twirled around. "Bolt Blitz!"

_KA-ZAP-KA-ZAP-KA-ZAP-ZAP-ZAP—!_

He spent the next couple of moments hopping from armrest to backrest to carpeted-covered steel beam to armrest to seat in an effort to dodge the machine-gun fire of lightning bolts from Zhael's hands. He made his way closer to her, charged a wind superbomb, and hurled it at her.

_FWOOOSSSH!_

Zhael's screams pierced the air as she was sent tumbling and skidding over an entire section of seats and falling into the next aisle over. A soft thud, a crunch of glass, and another cry of pain punctuated her landing.

Silence descended again.

"...Zhael?" Bomberman called tentatively.

More silence.

"Are...are you okay over there?" he asked.

"...oww."

"Zhael!" Bomberman made his way over as fast as he could, running across the seats –

_KA-__**ZAPPP!**_

He tripped and landed on his back on one of the armrests, twitching with the electricity coursing through his system.

Zhael grinned down at him from the end of the row with another ball of lightning in her hand. "You're such a sucker," she cooed sweetly, though half of her face was stained ever so slightly with a grimace and the other half was scratched and bloody. "You thought a single fall like that could break little ol' me? How adorable. I'll repay you handsomely for your consideration."

_ZZZT!_

Using the armrest just below his knees as a fulcrum, Bomberman managed to pull himself up to a sitting a position, narrowly avoiding Zhael's idea of repayment. In one smooth motion, he launched himself forward, clutched at another armrest, and did a handspring off it, twisting in mid-air to land on the next seat over, facing Zhael. He threw two wind bombs at her, but she annulled them with a half-spherical shield of lightning in front of her.

_FWOOOSSHH-ZZZT!_

She snapped her right wrist again, unsheathing her electrowires and striking out.

_KA-ZAP!_

Bomberman backflipped again into the aisle behind him, landing in between the steel floor grid onto a sagging carpet runner. He tossed a smoke bomb and detonated it in mid-air, catching Zhael off-guard and giving him time to hopscotch from floor beam to floor beam all the way to the front. He had just hopped onto the stage to check on Lilith when the electrowires wrapped around his throat and dragged him back to floor level.

_SLAAAMM!_

He crashed into one of the floor beams, yelping hoarsely as he felt some of the glass shards digging into his back and ripping at his shirt. Bomberman blindly flung out three wind bombs as a distraction.

_FWOOSH-FWOOSH-FWOOSH!_

Bomberman scrambled back onto the stage, and quickly ducked to the floor to avoid being snagged by Zhael's wires again. "Lilith!" he called, sliding on his knees to the side of the unconscious young woman. He pressed his fingers to the side of her throat near her earlobe, checking for a pulse. He sighed with relief as he felt her skin throb faintly against his fingertips.

The relief didn't last very long as Lilith was suddenly encased in a cocoon of pink lightning. Her body jolted with the sudden onslaught of energy.

Bomberman whirled. "Zhael!" he shouted angrily. "Leave her alone!"

The Mistress of the Storm only smiled prettily at him as she sat cross-legged on the edge of the stage, one hand outstretched to control the lightning around Lilith. "Didn't I warn you earlier?" she said. "Don't hold back on me, Bomberman. Or..."

And she tightened her outstretched hand into a fist, fitting the electric cocoon to Lilith's body like a catsuit and burning the electricity into her skin.

He didn't even think as he hurled three fire bombs at Zhael.

­_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

"Hahahaha!" Zhael cackled from somewhere off-stage; she had slid off the edge just in time to avoid being fried. "Yes, that's it! Hurt me, boy – just as much as I'm going to hurt _you!_" She tossed her hands up. "Chain Lightning!"

_ZAP-ZAP-ZAP!_

Bomberman dodged, charging up a fire superbomb as he did so. He ran to the edge of the stage and threw it at Zhael. She tried to skip out of the way, but she slid on a floor runner and fell backwards, and ended up taking the full brunt of the blast.

_KA-__**BOOM!!**_

Bomberman leapt down from the stage and tossed a low-power wind bomb to dispel the smoke.

_FWOOSH!_

The area cleared for just a moment before he was struck with another lightning strike and his vision exploded in blinding pink.

­_**ZAAAAPPP!**_

"Augh!" His head pounded and his body thrummed. In his sudden disorientation, he, too, slipped on a floor runner, and stumbled onto more glass. He swore as he cut his body in what felt like a million different places. He yanked out a frighteningly large shard from the side of his left hand, tossed it away, and then proceeded to fire off a barrage of fire bombs, building up an ever rising dome of flame and smoke...

_BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM-BLAM—_

_­_"Nnngh!" came Zhael's strained voice as she struggled against the fiery explosions.

_**ZZZZTTT!**_

An electric shield fended off the second wave. Her were crossed in front of her face as she held the shield; she snapped them straight out, channeling the energy from the shield into her open palms, and then fired it as two spheres of crackling lightning.

Luck and Bomberman's honed reflexes allowed him to dodge one of the spheres and then directly intercept the other with a fire bomb.

Zhael smirked at him, though the intimidating effect was dulled by the melted marks all over her armor and body. The bottom part of her skirt had been burned off, and large patches of reddened skin could be seen through the black bodysuit that covered her under the armor – as well as on her face. "So – you'll fight to the death for your hell-spawned princess over there?"

"It's not that," Bomberman answered tonelessly, charging two fire superbombs in his hands. "I just don't like anyone – _anyone­ –_ harming innocent people when I'm around."

She threw her head back and laughed. "Innocent? _Her?_" She called up her electrowires again. "My dear boy, you are far too innocent yourself, if you think _she_ is."

_KA-ZAP!_

Bomberman jumped to the side, landing on a seat. He threw one of his superbombs at Zhael, but she quickly deflected it upwards with a swipe of her electrowires, where it exploded against the ceiling.

_**BLAM!**_

_CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!_

Their heads snapped to attention at the sudden alarm.

"What's going on?" Zhael asked. She frowned. "Did Tolbi call secu – "

_SWWWWSSSSSSHH!_

Presumably activated by the intense heat of the superbomb, the fire sprinklers peppering the frescoed ceiling exploded into deluge upon deluge of ice-cold water, drenching nearly everything in the auditorium.

Bomberman flinched and shuddered as the initial watery downpour soaked him almost instantly to the skin.

"...well," muttered Zhael, carefully wiping water away from her face. "This is certainly inconvenient." She shook off a case of the shivers and turned her attention back to Bomberman, glaring at him through dripping wet pink bangs. "No matter – I won't let _my _parade be rained on!" She swung her electrowires at Bomberman, the electricity turning the water droplets into a fine curtain of mist as it sliced through the air.

_HISSSS-ZAAPPP!_

Bomberman stumbled out of the way, still shaken by the sudden onslaught of frigid water.

Thinking quickly, he hopped up to one of the seating sections floating in the air. He jumped up from there and tossed ice bombs at any sprinklers that he could reach, encasing the sprinkler heads in a thick layer of ice and sealing off the water.

_BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!_

Growling, Zhael fired another round of Chain Lightning at Bomberman, but he maneuvered deftly between the hot pink bolts, even while airborne. She switched to a different tactic, and aimed a lightning bolt at an ice-sealed sprinkler as Bomberman was standing under it, ready to toss two fire bombs at her.

_ZAP!_

_FWWSSSH!_

"Agh!" Distracted, Bomberman dropped the bombs, where they exploded harmlessly on the seats below.

"HAH!" Zhael climbed up onto a backrest and ran across the entire row of them, electrowires at the ready. She snapped them up at Bomberman, caught him around the waist with them, then pivoted and swung her arm to hurl him all the way to the other side of the auditorium.

_WHOOOSSSH!_

Bomberman somersaulted through the dark, misty air.

He regained his senses enough to land in a crouched position on the opposite wall, high above the broken, skeletal steel floor.

_THUMP!_

Time slowed for a few moments...

With his heart pounding in his ears and his feet firmly planted on the wall, he lifted his gaze.

He saw a pair of glowing pink eyes in the near-darkness.

He heard the sizzling of storm energy as an arm wrapped in pink lightning was raised.

He ran _down_ the wall, a wind superbomb charging in his hand, just as Zhael shouted out: "Volt Cannon!"

The lightning around her arm swirled into a single sphere in her palm before exploding like a cannonball into the air.

_ZZ-ZZ-ZZZ-__**ZZAAAPP**__!_

Time resumed.

Bomberman sprang off the wall just as the blast crashed into it, taking out a good chunk of plaster.

_BLAM! __**CRAAASSSH!!**_

He stuck a landing on an exposed floor beam for just a moment before he leapt up again into a forward no-hands flip onto a seat, the soaked cushion squishing beneath his sneakers.

Zhael rushed across a row of backrests, readying another attack, but just as she prepared to unleash it, her foot slipped. She fell backwards onto the edge of the backrest before rolling off it and onto what was left of the floor. _WHUMP! _

Bomberman took that chance to throw the wind bomb at her.

Grimacing, she flung an arm up at the next-to-the-last moment. "Thunderblade!"

_CRAAACK-ZAP!_

A jagged bolt of lightning shot out and sliced through the oncoming explosive, exploding it in mid-air. _WHOOOOSH!!_

Bomberman pressed forward, another wind bomb charging in his hand already.

Zhael scrambled onto the nearest seat, then planted both of her feet on one of the armrests and extending her electrowires. She snapped them at Bomberman, but he dodged to the side, leapt forward, and hurled the fully charged explosive at her.

_WHOOOOSSH!_

It hit Zhael dead-on – the resulting gales sent her flying into the air and back onto the stage, where she slammed into the piano with such force that it actually shoved the instrument over a few inches. She tumbled over it like a rag doll before landing on the floor in a graceless heap – _WHUMP! ­_– and lay still.

Bomberman inhaled and waited. Learning from his earlier mistake, he edged closer to the stage, but kept an eye out for any sudden movements. "Z-Zhael?" he called out after maybe a minute. "Are you all right?"

"...q-quit your yelling" – it was only a rasping murmur, but Bomberman snapped to attention anyway – "I'm...I'm right here." Wincing, Zhael dragged herself up to her feet using the piano bench as support.

But barely had she stood up and geared up for another attack that the lightning fizzled out in her hand in a shower of sparks. Her eyes widened, her body stiffened, and she stumbled to her knees, gasping and clutching at her chest.

Alarmed, Bomberman covered the distance from his current position to the stage in two easy leaps. He rushed forward and caught her just as she was about to fall forward. "Damn!" he cursed, kneeling so that he could support her better. "Talk to me! Attack me! Do _something_, dammit!"

Zhael did. She coughed up blood onto Bomberman's sweatshirt.

He drew back carefully and took a good look at her. Her skin was starting to slide over into pale corpse territory. She was shaking as she took ragged, shallow breaths. He checked her pulse on the side of her neck, only to find that he couldn't feel it.

_She must have punctured a lung,_ Bomberman realized, and he knew this only because Kuro had nearly died from something similar after an incident with the Garaden Empire recently. _Crashing into the piano like that might've broken a rib, which may have cut into her lung. _He swallowed. _I need to get her help – I can't do a damn thing here!_

"C-can't..." Zhael breathed, clutching desperately onto Bomberman's sleeves. She was starting to cry now. "I can't...d-die yet...I didn't...R-Rukifellth..."

"Don't talk, damn you," he ordered. "I'll get help!"

"You called?"

Bomberman looked over, startled. Lilith was getting to her feet, looking drowsy and slightly confused at being soaking wet, but otherwise conscious. "L-Lilith?"

"You!" Zhael suddenly broke free from Bomberman, but only for a moment. As she fell into his arms again, she pointed a shaky, accusing finger at the space piratess. "Y-you're...supposed to be d-dead...!"

A wan smile. "Not quite yet. Sorry about that."

Through a small coughing fit, Zhael managed a wheezy laugh. "Of course..." she whispered softly into Bomberman's sweatshirt. "It's...as he s-said. This is...the goddess M-Mihaele's work...you're her avatar! She...protects you now..."

Lilith frowned. "Goddess? Avatar? What are you talking about?"

Zhael gave a weak smirk. "I'd gladly...d-demonstrate if...if..." She broke into a harder coughing fit. Bomberman braced himself against her, trying not to make any sudden movements himself.

Lilith shook her head. "Never mind that! You can tell me after we get you some help!"

"T-too late..." Zhael leaned back into Bomberman's arms, the life fading from her face. "Be careful, M-Master Rukifellth. S-sorry that..." Her eyes began to roll back in her head. "Th-that I..."

"Zhael, hold on!" Bomberman pleaded, resisting the urge to shake her in desperation. "Just stay awake for a little bit! _Stay awake!_"

Zhael suddenly blinked up at Bomberman. She tilted her head curiously to the side. A faint smile spread across her face. "You...big...b-baby," she rasped, reaching up to delicately touch his face. "There's...n-nothing...to cry about..."

"_ZHAEL—!"_

In a brilliant white flash, Zhael's body crumbled.

All that remained was the storm gray Elemental Stone, dotted with the ashes of her body.

Lilith swore furiously. She kicked at one of the piano legs in frustration.

_SNAP! _The leg bent under the force of the kick, but snapped under the weight of the piano, and the instrument toppled over. _CRASH!_

Bomberman reverently gathered the Lightning Elemental into his trembling hands, gazing at it.

Slowly...his hands closed over it, covering it from view, like eyelids closing over vacant white eyes for a final time.

B-O-M-B

Outside in the crowded, hectic lobby, heads turned and conversation ceased as a desperate, hysterical scream echoed out from Atalanta Auditorium.


	32. Starlight: Journey Within

_He stands alone in a gloriously desolate wasteland, a desert plain of baked grey clay, rocks, and ruins stretching into eternity._

_Above him, the sky bleeds scarlet, with a molten white sun burning a hole in the nearly cloudless expanse._

_Before him is a deep, tall alcove carved into the face of a towering cliff. The alcove itself is rectangular, but it has a curved lattice at the top engraved with a series of almost-indecipherable runes._

_Rows of columns flank the sides, sculpted as though they are just emerging from the stone._

_The walls between the columns feature scenes of cosmic carnage rendered in fine black lines and tinted with faded washes of various colors of some sort._

_Overhead, the ceiling is carved out in a geometric pattern, allowing sunlight to filter through and casting lively shadows on the dead rock._

_At the far end of the alcove, the walls and floor are set with pale marble, showcasing a large grey jewel the size of a full-grown man plus an upper torso, if not larger. The half-crescent moon, half-star jewel is supported on the backs of three hunched over skeletons kneeling in a triangular formation, facing outwards._

_Beneath the faceted surface, one can almost make out the dark silhouette of a horned monster within its center._

_"The time of awakening has begun," he says, stepping forward to caress the jewel with a yellow-gloved hand. Whatever power is contained inside resonates with his touch, emitting a long keening note. "I need not wait long; the Elementals are being gathered as I speak._

_"I feel my true body beginning to stir...and thanks to Zhael, I know for sure now that Mihaele was roused as well. Her power responds to the Elementals, similar to mine – not surprisingly." He laughs. "But even if she __**has**__ succeeded in using Lilith's body to regain and reassert her power, she is much too late." A satisfied sigh. "It won't be long until I can reunite with my body and be reborn..."_

_**-NOT IF I CAN HELP IT, ASSHOLE!-**_

_The voice – similar to his own, but boiling over with rage and frustration – seems to emanate from the very land itself._

_He frowns and crosses his arms. "Hmph. Are we going to go through this again? It's starting to get a little boring."_

_**-YEAH? HOW ABOUT I BORE YOU INTO THE NEXT LIFE?-**_

_He only smirks at this. "You poor deluded child, I __**live **__in what you peons consider 'the next life'."_

_**-THEN WHY DON'T YOU JUST MOSEY ON BACK THERE AND **__**STAY**__** THERE?! SERIOUSLY, YOUR PIMP CALLED – HE WANTS HIS BITCH BACK!-**_

_"The only 'bitch' around here is that damned goddess currently riding your mate," he says dryly. He raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps, however, I can sing to the corrupted blood that courses through Lilith's veins and bring her here for you, if you are so lonely here..."_

_**-OH NO NO NO NO **__**NO**__**! YOU ARE **__**LEAVING HER ALONE**__**, YOU UNDERSTAND ME?-**_

_"No, I'm afraid I don't," he responds, his voice sliding into something a little more sinister. "Trapped here in your own ravaged mindscape, possessing only a fraction of Lilith's power, I fail to understand what you can do to enforce your threat."_

_**-...OKAY, YEAH, NOT MUCH. BUT...I CAN STILL ANNOY THE HELL OUT OF YOU!-**_

_A quake strikes suddenly, throwing him off his feet and into one of the skeletons supporting the massive jewel._

_The skeleton collapses into a pile of bones with the impact._

_The jewel falls on him, crushing him painfully as the sharp edges of the facets bite into his skin._

_**-HAH! RIGHT ON THE MONEY, BABY! HOW'S **__**THAT**__** FOR ENTERTAINMENT! HAHAHAHA!-**_

_"Insolent mortal!" he yells, carefully extracting himself from beneath the precious stone. "When I regain my true body, I will have yours flayed to the marrow for eternity and beyond!"_

_**-WHAT? I'M SORRY, CAN YOU REPEAT THAT? I DIDN'T HEAR YOU **__**OVER THE SOUND OF MY MASSIVE AWESOMENESS**__**!-**_

_Another earthquake jolts the alcove, which is quickly disintegrating both as a result of the quakes and because of some unseen force._

_He scowls. With a swish of his heavy black cloak, he disappears the jewel into an unknown location._

_As the stone floor collapses beneath him, and he falls into the darkness below, he shouts one last portent. "Remember this, you who are descended from the darkangel Aleksorian!_

_"__**You**__** are the one who willingly opened the doors to your mind in the first place!"**_

B-O-M-B

Rukifellth snapped back into normal consciousness, having been forcibly thrown from his mindscape.

He lay on the carpeted floor of his room, staring up into a bright white fluorescent light.

Squinting his eyes, he rolled over with a groan and got to his knees, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

He shakily stood up and shuffled over to a chair, sitting down. Regaining his mental composure, he inhaled deeply. "Hmph...you may resist me all you want, my little demontouched, but both you and I know that your bravado is born from the loins of hopelessness!" He smiled tightly as only silence – both from without and within – answered him.

The expression left his face as soon as he checked on his own mental connections to the Astral Knights. "So...it would seem that Bomberman has bested Zhael." He laughed. "I'm beginning to think he might actually make it as far as the Noah!

"Not that it matters in the end," Rukifellth continued as he wandered over to a mini-fridge and retrieved a black glass bottle from it. "Even if he were to set foot here, he wouldn't be able to stop my inevitable triumph." He twisted the cap off the bottle and poured out a dark burgundy liquid into a slender wine glass. "Still...I hope he can at least provide some entertainment.

"After all..." And he downed the entire glass in one gulp. "Blood tastes so much sweeter when it's steeped in fear."

B-O-M-B

_Rukifellth floats naked in the darkened ether of his currently formless mindscape, curled in a fetal position._

_His aqua hair fans out behind him like ragged wings._

_If he peers hard enough into the shadows...he can almost see the ghostly figure of Lilith somewhere in the distance._

_But he knows that it's only his own wishful thinking._

_He brings his knees to his chest and sighs._

_"I...was the one who willingly opened the doors to my mind in the first place," he repeats forlornly._

_The confession reaches no ears but his own._


	33. Starlight: Mere Glimpses

"Fight me. Now."

Bulzeeb glanced up, the sound of Zoniha's voice echoing throughout the Noah's gymnasium interrupting a complex kata he was working through. She stood in the entrance, her usual smiling face as grim as the reaper. Her hair was braided down her back; she wore a white sports bra and dark red track pants and armbands.

"Very well," he said, "if that is what you wish."

"No elemental powers," Zoniha said.

Caught in the middle of shifting to knight form, Bulzeeb simply let the excess energy dissipate. "Any other rules?"

"Only the usual."

"As you wish."

Zoniha approached him, then balanced herself on one leg in a stance familiar to Bulzeeb. He answered her stance with his own, lowering himself into a semi-crouch. He beckoned to her.

She stepped, leapt, and spun around mid-air to bring her foot down onto Bulzeeb's back. Low as he was on the ground, Bulzeeb simply slid out of the way, but as soon as Zoniha landed she twirled around with her other foot, catching him in the side.

_WHACK!_

Bulzeeb rolled into a standing position. Zoniha rushed at him and threw a punch. He dodged to the outside, grabbed her wrist with one hand and pulled her down, then simultaneously jabbed an elbow to her throat and swept her inside leg out from under her, dropping her onto her back. _WHAM!_ He finished by dropping to one knee and tapping his fist against her side. "Point," he said.

"Ugh..." Zoniha winced as she rubbed her throat. "Damn you."

"Pah, you know better than that," he chided. "That was a particularly careless attack, easy to read. What were you thinking? I taught you better – and you can _do_ better."

"Sh-shut up!" Zoniha's hand shot up and swung around, smacking Bulzeeb aside. She jumped to her feet, growled, and ran at him just as he was getting to his feet.

Bulzeeb deftly countered each of her strikes, then moved to the inside of her high kick, grabbing her calf and sweeping her other foot out again. _BAM! _"Are you even trying?" he asked calmly, raising his eyebrow down at her.

To any casual observer, it may have appeared that Zoniha was putting up quite the fight, moving swiftly and surely through a series of light-fast punches and kicks, in as many variations as there were stars in space. And more than once, she sent Bulzeeb flying.

But as the sparring continued, Zoniha dropped her fighting repertoire to a few simple moves, even more easily blocked or evaded by Bulzeeb than her earlier attacks. After slamming Zoniha to the ground for about the tenth time, Bulzeeb pinned her for real, locking her arm with his and firmly resting a knee on her back.

"Let me go, bastard," Zoniha hissed, struggling against him.

"Not unless you decide to take this sparring match seriously. I don't appreciate being used as a sentient punching bag. That is, after all, what the other BHB soldiers are for, are they not?"

"Already sent seven of them to the hospital wing," she mumbled.

It took Bulzeeb five seconds to realize that Zoniha wasn't joking. "Have any of them reached the incinerators yet?"

Zoniha didn't answer. Bulzeeb let her up and stepped back into a defensive stance. Slowly, she got to her feet, and stood with her arms limp at her sides. He suddenly noticed something.

"You're crying," he said.

She shot out with a knife hand strike.

Bulzeeb caught her wrist and held it tightly. "Stop it," he ordered.

Zoniha swung around with her other hand; he caught that one as well.

"Stop," he repeated. "Either you stop fighting or you stop crying. You cannot do both at the same time."

"Why?"

"I should think the reason is rather obvious. You cannot let your emotions—"

"_Why_ am I crying?" Zoniha looked up at Bulzeeb, the tears sliding down her face. Not waiting for him to speak, she continued: "If Zhael was...k-killed...by Bomberman...that meant she wasn't strong enough to p-protect her Elemental, right? And that meant that she...that she d-deserved to die. Right?"

"Zoniha..."

"_Then why the hell am I crying?_" Zoniha demanded. Her face, normally composed with a serene arrogance, was now pained with grief. Her clenched fists shook in Bulzeeb's hands. _"Why?_"

Bulzeeb only released her and turned away from her. Though she wasn't exactly sobbing, he could hear her sniffling a little. It was a couple of minutes before he spoke again. "Perhaps...you should go out somewhere, instead," he suggested, massaging his arm where Zoniha had landed a kick earlier.

"...wh-what?"

"I was under the impression that there was a favorite cafe of yours near Happyland. Casey's Cafe, I believe?"

"What are you talking about? D-do you even know what...what t-time is it over there?" Zoniha sounded confused. "I think they close early..."

"It may be rather late in Epikyurian time." Bulzeeb sighed. "Very well. There's a place in Cerbera that I've tended to frequent lately. They are a relatively new establishment: open late and quiet, if a little on the expensive side. I'll show it to you."

"Now?"

"If you'd like." He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Though you'll want to change. I have faith in your abilities even in your current state, but nevertheless, the streets of Cerbera are no place for someone dressed like that."

Zoniha scowled at him. "You talk to me as though I've not lived there with you before!" She managed a contemptuous smile. "You're getting forgetful in your old age, asshole."

"Ah. We're back to insults. Maybe you don't need such an outing after all."

"Bastard." She sniffled. "You men are all the same, honestly! Always g-going back on your word and...and..."

Bulzeeb only let the barest tendrils of a smile touch his lips as he walked out of the gym, grabbing his towel and bag on the way out. The smile faded quickly when he saw Molok coming down the hall. "Is something the matter, Molok?" he said. "You appear troubled."

"Have you seen Zoniha?" Molok said.

Bulzeeb blinked once. "I was, in fact, just talking to her. Were you looking for her?"

"Not exactly. I merely wanted to ask—"

Zoniha suddenly skipped out of the gym doors. "Well, hello there, old man!" she greeted. There was almost no sign that she had been crying except that her eyes seemed slightly glossier in the clinical fluorescent light of the corridor, and she sniffled once before she spoke her next words. "Out for your nightly ramble, or you just can't remember where your bathroom is?"

Molok regarded her with a curious glance, oddly not reacting to Zoniha's insults. "You're...quite bright at the moment. If such a phrase isn't redundant when applied to the Purifying Light."

She batted her eyes at him. "It's cute how you think you can be funny," she said. "Stick to your dusty ol' platitudes of honor and duty and whatshit. They fit you better." To Bulzeeb, she said, "I'll be back before you know it! Ten minutes tops, and _watch your back_." She winked before running off for the elevators.

Molok and Bulzeeb watched her go. "Shall I inquire about how you managed to bring Zoniha back to her senses after the news of Zhael's demise?" Molok said.

"I did nothing," Bulzeeb said. "Zoniha worked it out on her own."

Molok didn't seem entirely convinced, but he only smiled knowingly. "Are you two going somewhere soon?"

"We'll be headed back to Thantos for a bit. She needs to clear her head."

"I see." A pause. "I was going to ask if you thought it strange to see Zoniha so distressed, but seeing as you're pressed for time, I'll ask this instead: what did you make of Bomberman's fight against Zhael?"

Bulzeeb leaned against the wall and let out a breath as he mulled this question over, draping his towel over his shoulders. "Technically speaking, he was more than a match for Zhael. Even without her complaining about it to him, it was painfully easy to see that he was holding back on her."

"But Zhael, too, was holding back," Molok pointed out. "Was she not?"

A small smirk from Bulzeeb. "You noticed as well."

"Bomberman was redlisted by the master the moment it was known that he held the Fire Stone. Given Zhael's utter devotion to the master, I'm surprised she didn't attempt—not even once!—to perform Stormdance against Bomberman. True, it's far from the ideal attack to use in a one-on-one situation, but even without someone to cover for her, she might have attempted to create her own cover so that she could dance the necessary steps. If that had hit home, Bomberman would be naught but ashes. If not that, she certainly could have unleashed Stormwolf on him."

"Yet her lack of action isn't surprising at all, given the brief—if ultimately doomed—friendship she struck up with the bomber in the hours prior to their battle." Bulzeeb's smirk disappeared. "And for that reason, despite his victory, Bomberman did not escape unscathed. Zhael might not have been able to seduce him in the way she would have liked, but nevertheless she inflicted heavy emotional damage on him. He will be distracted when he goes up against you...and it may spell his end."

Molok chuckled and stroked his beard. "You sound disappointed at that prospect."

"Wouldn't you feel the same if our positions were reversed – that you felt that I would kill a skilled fighter even before you got a chance to meet him in battle?"

"That is a valid point." Molok hummed. "However, I do wonder if he is the type of warrior who draws power from strong emotions, no matter what their nature."

Bulzeeb frowned. "You mean that whatever he will lose in skill as a result of his traumas, he will make up for in raw strength and determination."

"I realize that for someone like you, the idea is, perhaps, a little incomprehensible, or even frightening," Molok remarked, smiling with the warmth of a teacher talking to a talented student. "Still, he is on the opposite end of the elemental spectrum from you. Variations in fighting styles come from within as well as without. You must have a steady, hardened soul to control the shadows and to withstand their power, but Bomberman has a heart of fire. He needs to burn brightly and freely in order to display his full potential. In this way, he's very similar to Baelfael, although Baelfael always did show a surprising amount of restraint both in and out of battle."

Bulzeeb shook his head. "I understand your logic, and agree about your assessment of the late Crimson Flame. But I don't believe that it applies to Bomberman."

"And why's that?" Molok fixed Bulzeeb with a suspicious glare out of the corner of his eyes.

"It's not a matter of Bomberman losing control of wild emotions...it's that he no longer has those emotions to feel." Bulzeeb gestured. "Zhael's death _broke_ him on Starlight, Molok. And unless he finds a way to recover from that, his flame won't regain its former glory. It will remain but a single ember in the darkness, to continue with your imagery." He glanced away. "I can't say for certain whether Bomberman will recover. He is tough, yes, but in many ways he is also unbelievably sensitive. It could go either way."

"Do you wish for him to recover?"

"Of course. It would be a shame to see such talent go to waste, and a warrior of your caliber certainly deserves all that someone like Bomberman can give."

Molok chuckled softly again. "You have high faith in Bomberman's abilities...and a fair amount of knowledge about his person."

"Do you doubt my ability to read an opponent?" Bulzeeb demanded, glaring. "If there is a weakness in the one known as Bomberman Yogeki, it is that—"

"Oh? You know his last name?"

An exhaled hiss of breath, soft and short. "His history, achievements, and real name are easily searchable on the CosmoNet," Bulzeeb responded curtly. "Perhaps it would benefit you to do a digital reconnaissance on him, considering that you shall be up against him soon. Only try not to break your arthritic old fingers to type in nine simple letters."

"Taking shots at my lack of hair and abundance of wrinkles, are we? The Purifying Light has blinded you with her...wit...more than I would have expected."

Bulzeeb grunted and turned to walk away. "You'll have to excuse me," he said. "Zoniha may already be wreaking havoc over in the residential quarters. I believe I have a duty to prevent her from carving a hole out of the time-space fabric."

Molok's laugh could have moved mountains. "Bulzeeb, you _are_ rattled! Since when did _you_ ever care about something like 'duty'?"


	34. Starlight: Fiat Justitia Ruat Caelum

"A hundred and fifty grand," Bomberman repeated, not believing what he was hearing. "Just for a _single_ night."

The pretty young desk clerk on the first floor of the Tolbi Casino Hotel wasn't fazed by either Bomberman's indignant clarification or by his battle-scarred state. "This is a ten-star establishment," she explained simply. "We're cheap compared to our competitors, you know. And this even though we lost most of our clientele after that black hole trapped us! You should be grateful."

Bomberman was the farthest thing _from_ grateful. There was no way in any dimension that either he or Lilith had the money to –

"That'll be fine," Lilith said, stepping forward and patting Bomberman's shoulder. "Put it on my credit card."

He gaped at her. "But...how can you even afford...?"

She gave an enigmatic smirk as she handed over a bird-shaped card.

The clerk took the card, but stopped short of scanning it once she noticed the close contact between Lilith and Bomberman. "You know...we do offer deals for couples," she began. "Would you like to stay in a honeymoon suite for just 250,000 Delta Dollars? I understand that the price sounds slightly high, but when you consider the extra perks like the in-room jacuzzi and the full access to the spa and all three golf courses and – "

"Wh-_what?_" Bomberman shook his head frantically. "No, that's fine, we'll just take the – "

"Sure, charge it."

" – regular...rooms?"

The clerk scanned in the card and returned it to Lilith before keying in more information. Your room will be ready in a couple of minutes – our staff will need some time to arrange your room for you, seeing as you didn't make a reservation," she said. "Thank you for staying at the Tolbi Casino Hotel, and we hope you enjoy your stay!" She paused, and craned her neck over the desk. "Oh, but we're going to have to charge extra for your pet. Will that be all right?"

B-O-M-B

"Why'd you pay for the honeymoon suite?" Bomberman asked as he, Lilith, and Pommy went to sit in the waiting area.

Lilith laughed apologetically. "Sorry. All I heard was 'extra perks' and I got a little too excited." She smiled. "Besides, since we're here, we might as well live it up, you know?"

"Are you really sure it's okay for you to be paying that much, though, when we're only going to be staying here for a night?" Bomberman hit upon an idea. "If – when – we get out of here, I can contact you later and set up, like, a payment plan to reimburse you or something..."

She waved him off. "Trust me on this one. I've got it covered."

He blinked disbelievingly at her. "What do you do for a living that you can afford to drop an entire house payment on a hotel room for a night?"

"Ah, I'm a...freelancer, you could say."

Bomberman shook his head. "You must be one hell of a freelancer, then, to be making that kind of money."

Lilith shrugged. "People say I'm one hell of a something, that's for sure."

After the disastrous confrontation with Zhael, Bomberman, Lilith, and Pommy had quickly escaped from the auditorium before security had a chance to drop in and arrest them for massive property damages – not to mention the death of a beloved performer. Lilith had been the one to suggest staying in one of Tolbi's hotels instead of going to the hospital, citing worries about the BHB Army expecting to find them at a hospital after the fight and insisting that she could treat Bomberman's wounds well enough for him to survive until they found a less high-risk medical center to recuperate at if the need arose. Bomberman had been too weary then to argue with the logic, but now...

"Still...don't you think it's a little risky staying this close to ground zero, though?" he asked.

"It's risky just staying anywhere on Starlight, period," Lilith answered, her eyes discreetly sweeping the crowds of other people milling around the hotel lobby for potential threats. "Especially in Tolbi. But I didn't want to travel too far from here, either."

"Why's that?"

Her voice lowered. "I've heard rumors while poking around that Augustus Tolbi, the owner of this casino, has some sort of connections with the BHB Army." She glanced sidelong at Bomberman. "I want to check that out. If it's true, he might know where the generator is on Starlight."

The Gravity Generator – Bomberman had almost forgotten about that stupid thing. "Let's hope he does. I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to."

Lilith sighed. "You and me both."

Bomberman's gaze slid to Pommy, who had been resting quietly in Lilith's lap this entire time, eyes downcast. The creature had been unusually quiet since the confrontation with Zhael. Not that Bomberman blamed him at all. "Hey, creampuff," he said, the nickname lacking the usual sarcastic bite. "You all right?"

Pommy looked up sadly at Bomberman. "P-Pommy's all right," he said in a wavery voice. He dropped the eye contact and snuggled closer to Lilith. "But Pommy's really sorry! When Zhael became scary, Pommy got scared and hid behind stage. Pommy didn't know what to do!"

"...I'm not sure that any of us did." Bomberman sighed. "But it's over now." _For the moment._ "So let's concentrate on moving forward."

"Pommy doesn't understand!" wailed Pommy. "Zhael was so nice to Bomberman and Pommy! Why would she just turn on us like that?"

"Because she was never sincere about the kindness in the first place." Lilith's voice was threaded through with cynicism. As though talking to herself, she added softly, "And even if it were...it wouldn't have mattered in the end."

Bomberman gave her a weird look. "Lilith...?"

"Things aren't what they seem," she said, gazing out into the crowds. "There's something else brewing beneath the surface, something larger than this life, but I don't know what it could be."

"Well, you knew about the Astral Knights being Elemental Knights," Bomberman pointed out. "That must be a big part of the picture, considering that most people think of them as myths – if they know of them at all."

"I didn't know about them until recently." She suddenly frowned, looking troubled. "But, you know...I can't even remember _how_ I learned about those guys."

In the foggy mists of his memory, he reluctantly remembered some of Zhael's last words to Lilith. "Could this be about the goddess that Zhael mentioned, then? And being her...um...avatar and all that?"

"It may related to that," she admitted, "not that I had much of an idea of what Zhael was talking about. I'm still missing a couple of large pieces, and I'm not sure how to find them."

"Lilith should be careful," Pommy said, looking up at her. "Pommy thinks Lilith should see a doctor. That avatar thing sounds scary! Maybe it's like cancer."

Lilith burst out into giggles, and for a moment Bomberman was heartened by the sound. Just for a moment. "You're something else, Pommy," she said, patting the creature on his head.

"Ticket number eight-oh-nine!" the desk clerk suddenly called. "Your room is ready!"

Lilith looked at the receipt in her hand. "That's us," she said, getting to her feet. "Well, let's go! The room's not going to occupy itself, after all."

B-O-M-B

Their "room" was more accurately described as a giant one-room luxury apartment.

A crystal chandelier dangled from the high, arched ceiling. One entire wall, located near the marble jacuzzi, featured a floor-length "window" that could display a hyperrealistic simulation of whatever scenic view was desired: mountains, city skyline, jungle, and many others. The carpet was blush pink, and the king-sized bed, topped with a gauzy white canopy, sported sheets and pillows in alternating shades of rose red and snow white. A silver tray of chocolate-covered strawberries sat on the bed, waiting to be romantically (or voraciously) devoured. Crimson rose petals were scattered everywhere. In one corner was a modern kitchenette, and in the opposite corner was a giant flatbed TV with an up-to-date stereo system and a white leather couch with a matching ottoman. There was also a wardrobe, a set of drawers, and a desk, all painted white with gold accents.

The card key dropped from Bomberman's hand as he stared mutely at the lavish scene before him.

"Myu!" Pommy exclaimed, running into the room in wonder. "It's like a mini-mansion!"

Lilith whistled. "Extra perks, the clerk said!" She made a beeline for the bed and plopped down onto it, testing the mattress. "This is more like the whole kit and caboodle with cherries on the kitchen sink!"

Bomberman picked up the card key from the ground before closing the door behind him. "I'll, um, sleep on the couch tonight."

Lilith did a double-take. "What for?"

"Well, I mean..." He gestured. "There's only one bed..."

"Don't be silly! The thing's gigantic, and you need – and deserve – the luxury of a Real Live Bed." Lilith lay down on her back and sighed happily. "We can easily stay on opposite sides if this arrangement makes you uncomfortable. Or, you know, I can take the couch. It certainly looks comfy enough."

Pommy clambered onto the couch and jumped up and down on it a few times. "Pommy likes the couch, myu!" he said. "Pommy doesn't mind sleeping here if he has to!"

"There we go, problem solved." Pause. "Unless you have some deep, dark secret that you should tell me about?"

Bomberman shook his head.

"Do you talk in your sleep?"

"No."

"Snore?"

"No."

"Sleepwalk?"

"No."

"Hog the blanket?"

"Not really."

"Kick people off the bed?"

"Er...no."

"Cuddle other people as they're sleeping?"

He turned bright red. "Of course not!"

Lilith laughed. "I'm only teasing." But somehow there was a soft note of sadness in her voice. "Well, now that that's settled..." She snatched up the tray of strawberries. "Want one?"

Bomberman was about to refuse, fearing that he'd end up throwing it up later, but his stomach grumbled in protest. Sighing, he took a strawberry and bit into it. It was sweet and cool, and yet it tasted painfully bland to him.

This was so ridiculous. What was he doing here, spending the night in a luxury hotel room, "living it up" – for a certain twisted definition of that phrase, at least? _He'd just killed someone!_ Four someones total, by this point. Shouldn't he be languishing in a jail cell for life somewhere? Or hell, even dead himself? Yeah, so the four aforementioned someones would have killed him if he hadn't done so first, but that didn't cancel out the fact that they died, in one way or another, by his hands.

Did it?

Lilith regarded him with a worried look. "Are you okay?" She shook her head before he could even register that she'd asked the question. "What am I saying? Of course you're not, in any sense of the term." She rummaged around in her backpack and pulled out a small purple bag, presumably a first-aid kit. "Sit down and take off your shirt. We can at least fix up your body for the moment."

Bomberman did as he was told, wincing as he slipped off his sweatshirt and then his black undershirt, tossing the clothes onto the floor before sitting down on the bed.

In the meantime, Lilith headed over to the kitchenette to wash her hands. After she dried off, she took an already-filled bucket of ice from the counter and almost dumped it into the sink before thinking better of it. She snatched a roll of paper towels from the cabinet and then trotted back to the bed with the goods, setting them down on the bedside table. "How bad does it hurt?" she asked.

"It's not too horrible..." He inspected his arms. "Well, this gash on my left hand is kind of annoying, and I think there's something stuck in my back somewhere, but I'm mostly just sore – probably just from being thrown around so much and from all the shocks I got."

"What about your legs?"

"Just minor scratches, I think. The thick fabric of these jeans probably prevented the worst."

"That's good." She knelt on the bed behind Bomberman, inspecting him closely. "Yeah, it looks like you've got some glass here and there – I'll get them out." She retrieved a pair of tweezers from her bag and began carefully but swiftly picking out the shards of glass from his back, arms, and hands. She dumped them on a paper towel and set them on the bedside table, then took a piece of ice from the ice bucket and began gently cleaning the cuts with it.

Bomberman reflexively flinched from the cold. "That's...an unorthodox way of doing things."

"Well, it'll definitely be easier to do clean-up with these than with a washcloth. I think room service will happy with us."

"C-can we go eat later?" Pommy asked timidly, coming up beside Lilith on the bed. "Pommy's kind of hungry, and Pommy already ate all the strawberries."

"That's no problem – I could use some food myself. We should order out, though. I don't want to leave the room if we don't have to. Go check if there's a binder or something with a list of takeout places or whatever and decide what you want."

As Pommy set forth on this mission, Bomberman turned to Lilith. "Hey...are _you_ all right?" he asked.

She waved him off. "It's nothing that a medicinal gel and a good night's rest can't handle. I heal rather quickly, and I'm tough to begin with."

"Er – well – not that I'm not relieved to hear that, but what I meant was...you look a little depressed."

Lilith stared at him for a moment, as though she'd been caught in the middle of a crime. "Well...it's a depressing situation all around," she said a little helplessly. "To say the least."

Bomberman was certain Lilith was keeping something from him, but he couldn't pin down what it could be. Then again, maybe his paranoia instinct was just in overdrive after the fiasco with Zhael. "To say the least," he agreed.

Lilith went through another ice cube or two cleaning Bomberman's skin before she finished. She dried him off gently with a paper towel, and then took out an orange tin from her bag. "I'm going to put on some medicinal gel before I glue up the cuts," she said. "And this'll help with the burns, too." She scooped out a small chunk and held it out for Bomberman.

Bomberman took the stuff in one hand. It was a translucent peachy color with a faintly pungent odor. He was about to apply some of it to a cut on his cheek when Lilith touched the gel to an open wound on his back. "Oww."

"Ah, yeah, sorry about that, it'll sting," she said, her touch gentle and cautious. "It's got a bit of a stronger antiseptic quality to it than what I gave you back on Alcatraz. Whatever happened to that, anyway?"

"Probably on my plane somewhere. I've used it every now and again."

"I'm glad to hear it. That's what I gave it to you for."

"Myu, Pommy found the restaurant list thingy!" At the desk, Pommy waved around a slim white binder with the Tolbi Casino logo on it before flipping through it. "Hmm...Pommy wants barbecue ribs! Is that okay?"

"Sure, whatever you want is fine by me. Bomberman?"

"I don't have any objections."

Pommy ran over and dropped the binder on the bed, opened to the appropriate page. "Pommy wants to watch TV. Is that okay too?" At Lilith's nod, he scurried over to the TV and found the remote. He turned the TV on, landing on what looked like a live-action fantasy show, and he settled into the couch.

It was another minute or so before Lilith finished with the gel and began sealing the cuts on Bomberman's skin with what she said was a special kind of medical superglue. She was about to apply gauze bandages to the burns before she thought better of it. "Are you planning on taking a shower?" she asked. "Because if you are, I'll hold off on putting these things on."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, that'd probably be a good idea." Bomberman slid off the bed and headed for the bathroom, scooping up his sweatshirt and undershirt from the floor.

His hand was on the handle of the bathroom door when Lilith spoke again. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "those clothes of yours look like they've been to hell and back in a handbasket."

Bomberman took a closer look at his shirt and sweatshirt, then down at his jeans and socks. Lilith was right, of course. Not that he wanted to admit that. "Well...I can just wash them and let them dry overnight, and they should be all right for a while..."

"By Frithazar's fangs they will! They'll fall apart if someone so much as breathes on them. I'm taking you shopping tomorrow."

He stared at her. "_What?_ No _way_, you already paid for the hotel room! I'll be fine!"

Lilith rolled her eyes as she rubbed the medicinal gel over her own burns and cuts. "If I can afford two-fifty grand for one night in a hotel, I can afford to get you something decent to wear. No arguments! I know some good stores in Tolbi that you might like."

_Bel's hells._ Bomberman swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. _I don't deserve this. At all. _"I..." He closed his eyes. "Th-thank you."

Lilith smiled. "Don't look so guilty! It's seriously no problem. Just think of this as a small repayment to you."

He blinked. "R-repayment? For what?" _I should be the one repaying __**her**__!_

"Er..." She fumbled her words. "For, uh...saving my life, of course!"

That didn't clear things up for him. "But...but that was just one – "

"I said no arguments! Pommy, mind getting me the room phone? I'll get our dinner once I'm done here."

Resigned, Bomberman turned and crossed the threshold into the realm of the bath.

B-O-M-B

Lilith raised her eyebrows at Bomberman when he emerged from the bathroom again. "Nice robe you got there," she said.

It was, actually: it was made of a thick, soft fabric that wasn't bulky or scratchy, perfect for lounging around in. Or sleeping in. "There's another one in the closet if you're thinking of showering too," he said, drying his hair out with a hand towel. "I've left my clothes inside to dry, so tread carefully."

Lilith laughed. "Wardrobe of Mass Destruction?"

"Uh...I guess?"

"Hehe. Come over here. I'll put these things on you before I hog the bathroom."

Bomberman obeyed, sitting on the bed again. He lowered the top half of his robe so that Lilith could do as she said.

"I just ordered our dinner," she said, ripping off some medical tape to fix a piece of gauze to his body. "Three slabs of ribs, fries, and garlic bread, and two bottles of cola. They said it might be a half-hour wait or so."

"Cool."

She continued working.

He fixed a blank gaze on the carpet.

Over in the corner, the TV blared its dramatic dialogue. _"This city have very yummy sand!"_ burbled one voice. _"This city delicious."_

_"I failed Burmecia,"_ came another voice, a distraught female one, _"but I won't fail Cleyra, no matter what."_

"Ohhh," Pommy whimpered. "Pommy hopes everything will be all right! The man with the silver dragon was freaky, myu!"

The melancholy violins of the haunting background music swelled to a fermata before the show cut to a commercial break featuring a fast-talking saleswoman.

"Hey," Lilith said softly, her hand resting comfortably on one of Bomberman's shoulder blades. "I'm really sorry, you know."

"Huh? For what?" Bomberman was suddenly keenly aware of how near she was to him.

"About...about Zhael." She sighed. "I was going to warn you about her, but you weren't answering your communicator."

He almost wanted to cry at the irony. "I forgot it back on my plane," he explained. He glanced at her over his shoulder. "How'd you even find out about something like that, anyway?"

"Oh, a blackbird told me after I stalked him down." Lilith slid off the satin comforter, taking her backpack with her. "Anyway, I'll be in the bathroom. If they call with our order, send Pommy down to fetch it."

Bomberman did a double-take. "Is he even going to be able to _carry_ our order?" he asked in disbelief. "I mean, didn't you order soda in addition to the food?"

"Pommy can at least lead the deliveryman up to our room, I think. I just don't want _you_ wandering around in your condition, robed or otherwise. And don't worry about the tip – I covered that in the bill already."

With Lilith in the bathroom, Bomberman joined Pommy on the couch in watching the TV, trying to forget the current situation for a while. It didn't work. He only felt deeply ashamed for his internal retreat, even upon remembering that his counselor back home, Sheba, had said that it was normal for people to "blank out" after experiencing trauma of any sort.

_"People deal with these things differently,"_ she had said._ "Some will lash out to avoid their inner world; some will shrink back from the outer world. Some feel the impact right away; some don't even register it until way after the fact. The thing is, you have to learn to recognize how you, personally, deal with these sorts of things. Once you figure that out, you have to work with it, or else you'll just make yourself even more miserable._

_"Accept yourself, Shiro. And love yourself. But at least try to accept yourself first."_

Could he even do either at this point?

As an epic battle of blades and magick flashed across the TV screen, Bomberman lay back and closed his eyes to fight his own epic battle, as futile as the effort seemed to him. It would not be as spectacular as that fantastical battle, nor would it be as violent, but the pain alone would be worthy of the title. He breathed regular and even, letting his mind float and bob as though it were suspended in water, and freely acknowledging whatever memories and emotions he happened to bump to in the process. It was a meditation technique Sheba had taught him; she liked to refer to it as the "jellyfish meditation."

Unsurprisingly, the first memory he bumped into was that of a death. Surprisingly, it was the memory of Baelfael's death, which in retrospect hadn't hit Bomberman as hard as he thought it would – or should – have at the time, and still didn't to some extent. Perhaps the shock of it had triggered an automatic denial system in his brain? He floated through the sea of his memories some more, and wondered if the arrival of Lilith, self-assured and strong, had helped to calm that potential storm...even if it didn't entirely silence it.

The thought of the redheaded young woman brought him closer to the present, to her unexpected but welcome fastidiousness in her concern for his well-being. He recalled the warm touch of Lilith's hand on his skin when she had been tending to his wounds, her breath on his body. He tried to savor that moment for the comfort it brought him, by way of such an intimate – yet brief and superficial - connection to a person he cared about and respected.

But then he remembered another person that he'd cared about and respected...

Who had turned on him...

And who had ultimately died at his hands.

...the waves and tides of his memory stilled to an eerie, perturbing calm.

_"Freya, you say?"_ inquired a voice with a trace of a noble accent. _"I believe this is the first time we have met..."_

"_What...did you just say?"_

"_I'm sorry, but I cannot remember you for the life of me..."_

_"Y-you jest! You cannot have forgotten me! It's me, Freya! Freya of Burmecia!"_

_"I am sorry..."_

The walls he had rebuilt after they'd first broken four years ago had been reduced in a flash to dust and ashes, spilling out grief and anger and desperation, emptying the stores of mortal emotion.

The tears he swallowed down only trickled into the depthless ocean of his soul, adding inches and inches and drowning whatever lay beneath the surface.

He almost couldn't feel anymore.

He didn't _want_ to feel anymore.

Not after Zhael.

Not after Zhael...

"_Myu! _What did Lilith do to her hair?"

Bomberman snapped out of his meditation at this sudden outburst from Pommy, turning his head towards the bathroom.

Lilith stood guilelessly in the doorway, clad in a dark green camisole top and black pajama pants...her previously carnelian hair now matching the pure white of Bomberman's own.

His eyebrows shot up so high in disbelief that they practically buried themselves in his hairline. "What...?" he stammered, not even able to finish a complete question.

She laughed. "I felt like going natural for a while. Is that so wrong?"

That only added to the shock. "That's your _natural_ hair color?" Bomberman asked, still not believing what he was seeing.

"Much like yours, if I'm not mistaken. Unless you've been obsessively bleaching the life out of it when I'm not looking."

"You're the first other person I've seen with natural white hair..." he said in wonder.

"Same here." She wandered over as she toweled her hair dry. "And mind you I've seen a _lot_ of natural hair colors, including multicolored hair. Once I met this guy whose front bangs were this purple-black shade and then the rest of his hair was blond."

"Well, I can't top that story." He noticed traces of red in the white cloth. "Temporary dye?" he guessed.

"Yeah. It stays in for the most part until I wash it out with a special shampoo." She looked up at him. "Maybe you should try it. It might help in evading the BHB Army. They wouldn't be able to identify you unless you blow things up right under their noses."

An irrational pride over his natural color fornicated with a reluctance to accept any more help from Lilith and produced a child of pure _no._ "It's fine," Bomberman said. "I'm not much for that sort of thing."

"You sure?" Lilith gave him a sly look as she sat down beside him. "I've got a neon green color that would look absolutely – "

" – horrendous on me," Bomberman finished for her, but he managed a grin to soften his refusal. "Seriously, I appreciate the suggestion, but I'd rather not be in any more debt to you than I have to be."

"Hah! I suppose I can't argue with that logic."

The room phone rang then with news of their dinner, and Lilith scurried downstairs to fetch it. She returned with one bag holding three styrofoam boxes and two smaller paper bags and another bag with two large bottles of cola. She spread the greasy feast out on the coffee table in front of the couch while Bomberman brought over cups and paper towels from the kitchenette. The three of them settled in around the TV, watching the fantasy show that Pommy had originally clicked to (which was apparently running a series marathon).

"Y'know," Lilith said about half an hour later, "that wasn't too bad. Most of the live-action fantasy stuff I've seen has cheesy, boring plotlines marinated in bad special effects, so something like this show is really refreshing. Could do something about the name, though. I mean, seriously – 'Last Illusion 9'? Leustheria knows I wouldn't have flipped to this show if I'd only seen the title."

Bomberman gave a shrug. He'd only been paying attention in bits and pieces.

Lilith glanced at him, a half-chewed fry sticking out of her mouth like a piece of (admittedly thick) hay. "You...don't like it? We can find something else to watch. Tolbi Casino Hotel probably has eleventy million channels to go through."

"But Pommy wanted to find out what would happen to Dagger," Pommy mewed before chomping into a sauce-lathered rib. He sat upon the ottoman to better reach the table.

"I don't really care," Bomberman muttered. He was suddenly aware of an intense scrutiny on Lilith's part, and he became unnerved. "What?"

"You ever killed anyone before?" she asked, her expression serious. "I mean, before this whole thing with the BHB Army?"

That was the last thing he was expecting her to ask. "Twice," he answered, wondering where this was going.

She was surprised. "Really? When?"

"A few years ago. I had to deal with a group of mercenaries wreaking my country." His voice lowered. "I didn't mean to kill them...they were both accidents."

"Heh. That's something you got going for you, you know."

Bomberman sighed. "At least if you specifically go out to kill someone and you do it, you accomplished something. If you didn't want to kill but ended up doing it anyway...you failed in a pretty spectacular way, even if you accomplished your end result in the process."

Lilith laughed cynically. "Ah, but if someone goes out to specifically kill another person, what does that say about the person doing the killing? Your logic is damning them with faint praise, not that they need any more damning." She snatched another fry. "Those people who go out with the full conscious intent to kill, no matter what the cause, deserve all the guilt and more – though they don't always feel it. Those who kill by accident deserve no guilt at all – and yet _they're_ the ones who feel it the most." A tense smile. "But...I'm sure that none of my life observations are making you feel any better at the moment, are they?"

"...n-no, not really," admitted Bomberman. "But it's all right."

Lilith took a breath. "What I'm trying to say, I think, is that...y-you shouldn't hate yourself for something that couldn't be helped – "

"But what if it _could_ have?" Bomberman insisted, his hands clenching into fists. "What if it could have and I was just too stupid to see it? Too weak to do anything?" He closed his eyes. "H-how...am I supposed to forgive myself for that?"

"We're all blinded to something at some point or another," Lilith uttered. "And it has nothing to do with stupidity or weakness and everything to do with being human. Mortal. Impermanent." She paused. "Stupidity and weakness are...inherent features of mortal creatures, to quote a holy woman I once knew, but more's the reason for not beating yourself up – too much – over instances of it."

"I didn't want to kill _any_ of the knights..." Bomberman repeated, mostly to himself. "No matter the things they'd done, I didn't want to kill them."

"Don't be a fool."

Lilith's voice, oddly resonant, cracked the air like a whip, and Bomberman appropriately paid attention. He scrunched his brow as he noticed that Lilith's normally brown eyes seemed to have shifted to a darker, endless blue. Was that just a trick of the light?

"Didn't I warn you on Horizon that the only way to get anywhere now is through brute force?" she continued. "You had three deaths on your head by that point; you should have known what 'brute force' would entail in the future. You accepted that responsibility despite my offer to relieve you of it. So don't cling to such soft-hearted ideals in the face of hardened tribulations, or I can't be held responsible for the damage done to you. You would have only done it to yourself."

A beat.

Pommy stared slack-jawed at Lilith, nearly dropping a bare rib bone onto the carpet and forgetting all about his TV show.

Lilith blinked and clapped a hand to her mouth. "Holy crap!" she swore. "Why the hell did...? Leustheria on a chariot, I'm so sorry! F-forget I said any of that. Seriously. I didn't mean it at all, I'm sorry!" She seemed absolutely bewildered, and her brown eyes glittered with shock. "I have no idea where that came from. That...that's not what I wanted to say at all!"

Stung by her recent admonishment, more than he cared to admit, Bomberman forgave her almost instantly for it anyway. "No, no, you're right. I know what I have to do." He lay back in the couch and exhaled. "It's just...easier said than done, that's all."

"No, keep on doing whatever it is that you do!" she insisted. She chuckled softly. "So at least one of us will still have integrity."

Bomberman glanced inquisitively at her.

Lilith also lay back a little in her seat, a cup of cola in hand. "You really should have let me take over for you," she murmured, seeming contemplative. Her eyes turned to him. "Why didn't you?"

He'd answered this question before, hadn't he? _Because I'm way too deep in this crap to ever get it off me. _

That was the pragmatic reason he'd offered so glibly, back on Horizon. But it didn't hold up completely under closer examination. After all, he _could_ have just left the Astral Knights to Lilith and helped her out in another way. He'd still be running from the BHB Army, but the necessity of taking lives that weren't his to take wouldn't be as crushing as it was now.

Why, then, had he accepted the route that he knew, without a single doubt, would tear him apart?

"I don't know," he answered forlornly. "I really don't."

Lilith touched the back of his hand gently as a measure of consolation, but Bomberman only felt guiltier for taking – once again – something that he didn't feel he deserved to take.


	35. Starlight: Take a Gamble

True to her word, Lilith dragged Bomberman out to Tolbi's multilevel shopping mall the next day after they properly checked out of their hotel room and ate breakfast. Bomberman had the distinct feeling that she was being a little too enthusiastic about the whole thing, but realizing the necessity of this accepting this favor, he decided to just shrug it off.

He shopped as practically and conservatively as possible, ending up with a few solid colored T-shirts (three for the price of one!), a long-sleeved white shirt, a black zip-up hoodie, two pairs of dark jeans, and a pair of khaki-colored pants, along with some new socks and underwear. His lone splurge item was a pair of bright red Converse high-tops – he knew they were going to get dirty as hell sooner or later, but he might as well retain _some_ semblance of style while dealing with the BHB Army. He also snagged a large messenger bag to haul all of his stuff in, and topped off the shopping spree with basic essentials and necessities for staying on the run. At the nearest chance, Bomberman ducked into a restroom and changed completely out of his old clothes. He walked out in a dark blue T-shirt and jeans along with the high-tops.

Lilith smiled brightly when she saw him decked out in his new clothes. "Looking good there."

Bomberman shrugged, but couldn't help but grin too. "This definitely feels better than the rags I had on before. Thank you so much – I swear I'll find a way to make this up to you."

"For the last time, don't worry about it! It's no big deal. Call it an investment in the future, if you will. I just want to know if you're ready to go find that Gravity Generator."

"As ready as I'll ever be."

She paused. "You might want to stick the rest of your stuff in your plane, though. Who knows how long this could take."

"Uh..." Bomberman lowered his voice. "I'm kinda here illegally, so if I get out..."

"You can't get back in," Lilith finished. "I can fix that! Give me your bags and the key to your plane. Where'd you park?"

As Lilith trotted off, Pommy said, "That was cool! Lilith's really nice."

_I knew someone else who was really nice,_ Bomberman thought grimly.

The train of thought sparked by Pommy's comment in Bomberman's mind was so determined on running itself in circles that it was only derailed by Lilith shaking his shoulder when she returned. "You all right?" she asked.

"I'll be fine," Bomberman insisted, having no clue whether he believed it or not. He and Pommy followed Lilith as she headed for an escalator. "Where are we headed?"

"The office of Augustus Tolbi. We'll start there and work our way through if we can or need to."

"Are we even going to be allowed to see him?"

"If we aren't, I'm sure we can...convince the proper authorities to let us see him."

"Great. Another reason to be in trouble with security."

Lilith laughed. "You've been in trouble for a while. The only difference this time is that now you've got me along."

Bomberman felt genuinely better.

B-O-M-B

The three of them reached the executive offices of Tolbi Casino through another skyway. After studying the directory at the end of their trek, Bomberman, Lilith, and Pommy took an elevator up to the tenth floor.

At the front desk, Lilith stepped forward to talk to the secretary. "Excuse me, but we're here to see Augustus Tolbi."

"Mr. Tolbi is at lunch right now," the elderly secretary said. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but – "

"You will have to make one."

Lilith glanced left.

Glanced right.

Glanced left again.

She leaned forward.

"I know who killed Odessa Chen," she whispered.

Bomberman's blood ran cold. _What is she doing? _he thought, panicking. He was just barely reassured by the pressure of Lilith's fingers around his wrist.

The secretary studied her carefully. "If that's true...wouldn't it be more prudent to tell the police?"

"Mr. Tolbi was very fond of her, though, wasn't he?" Lilith countered. "Surely he deserves to know, more than anyone else, who took her life. He can do as he likes with the information I've got it."

The secretary tilted her head down and glanced up at Lilith over a pair of tortoiseshell-rimmed bifocals. "Was it you, by any chance?"

"I know who killed Odessa Chen," Lilith repeated firmly.

A beat.

"...you had better be serious about this, young lady," the secretary warned, picking up the phone and dialing a number. There was a pause. "Yes, Mr. Tolbi. There's a young woman and a young man here to see you. The woman claims that she knows who is responsible for Miss Chen's end." Another pause. The secretary covered the mouthpiece and turned to Lilith. "What are your names?"

"Garnet and Zidane," Lilith answered without hesitation.

Bomberman did a double-take at the aliases Lilith had chosen.

The secretary repeated the names into the phone. "Yes, of course, as you wish, sir." She hung up. "Mr. Tolbi will receive you at his office, 1018. Go down the hall, make a right, and keep going. You'll see it at the end of the hall."

"What was that about?" Bomberman hissed to Lilith when they were out of earshot of the secretary.

Lilith looked him in the eye. "Trust me on this," she insisted. "That was pretty much the only legit leverage we had at the moment for seeing Mr. Tolbi. Otherwise we would've had to threaten that poor lady." She increased her pace. "I can handle things from here."

"Lilith..."

"Please." Her face was filled with a deep sorrow when she turned to look at him. "You've done enough already. Let me help out a little. And try not to look too guilty when we see Mr. Tolbi, okay?"

Not seeing any alternative, Bomberman let the matter rest.

B-O-M-B

The doors to office 1018 were made of heavy cherry wood with brass handles. Lilith spoke into a nearby intercom. "Mr. Tolbi? Your secretary sent us over here. Garnet and Zidane."

_"Come in_," crackled a weak-sounding voice, made weaker by the static of the intercom.

Tolbi's office appeared larger than it actually was, thanks to the mirrored walls that started at about shoulder-level and extended up to the ceiling. But even without the mirrors magnifying the space, the actual floor area was incredibly substantial for an office, executive or not. The carpeting was green, printed as though the entire room were a giant craps table. There was a bright red runner that led straight from the door to Tolbi's massive desk, the path lined with fake plastic plants on stout white pedestals. Towards the back, four lamps shone yellow, green, red, and blue, making for an odd lighting effect, especially considering that the rest of the room was normally lighted, albeit at a slightly dim level. The entire arrangement spoke of ostentatiousness and gimmicky enthusiasm.

Tolbi himself was a man of slight stature, appearing to be in his late forties. He had thinning black hair sprinkled with grey and steel blue eyes whose edge was dulled with age. He wore a white suit with a sleek gold tie. Behind him stood a line of bodyguards in black tuxedos, hands behind their back, except for one in a red suit with his arms crossed in front. He stood next to Tolbi.

The doors swung shut behind Lilith, Bomberman, and Pommy with a quiet click.

Tolbi held out his ring-studded hands. "Welcome," he said. "I am Augustus Tolbi. You said you had some information for me?"

Lilith nodded. "I know who is responsible for the death of Odessa Chen."

Bomberman tensed.

A moment passed.

Tolbi placed a hand on his desk and pushed himself up to a standing position. He began to pace."My dear, I must impress upon you that I will not appreciate practical jokes," he said, glaring at her. "If that is what you have come here for, I will allow you to leave now without any repercussions. Otherwise, you will face severe consequences."

"I'm here with the most serious of intentions, Mr. Tolbi," Lilith said.

"Very well." Tolbi crossed his arms. "Who did it, then?"

"I did."

It was all Bomberman could do to keep from staring at Lilith for telling such a lie.

Tolbi peered at Lilith, as though searching her for the truth. He stopped pacing. "You."

"Yes."

"That is quite interesting, because there is some testimony from guards who were at Atalanta Auditorium that someone who looked like your companion there was the one fighting with Odessa prior to her death."

"But did they see who actually killed her?"

"No, unfortunately."

"That would have been me, sir. Odessa had been intent on killing me, but managed only to knock me unconscious. My friend here defended me until I regained my senses. Against his will, I dealt the final blow."

A silence.

The red-suited bodyguard stepped forward to whisper something unintelligible to the man. Tolbi nodded ever so imperceptibly, and the bodyguard retreated to his place in line. "Miss _Lilith,_ Mr. _Bomberman,_" he said, emphasizing the names, "let's not waste any more time with pretenses. I know that both of you are wanted by the BHB Army, and can guess at why you are here in my office today."

"He's deeper in the cabbit hole than I thought," Lilith whispered to Bomberman, not taking her eyes off Tolbi.

"Since this is a casino, I'll make a wager with you," Tolbi offered. "Beat me in a one-on-one game of blackjack, and I shall reveal whatever information you need from me. Lose the game, and you will hand over yourselves and the Elemental Stones you hold. There'll be no need to place individual bets – we will simply determine wins and losses by who busts."

"Done and done," Lilith said.

Tolbi smiled, showing a cap in his upper canines. He seated himself in his leather chair again. He reached over into a drawer and pulled out a deck of cards, which he began to shuffle. "So who shall my honored opponent be?"

"I'll – "

" – do it," Lilith interrupted Bomberman. At his protest, she said, "Well, have you played blackjack before?"

"A little." Actually, the most he'd ever played at cards was Old Maid back when he was just a kid.

Lilith sighed. "Just let me do it. I think it's more my thing than yours, anyway." She gave him a backwards glance as she went over to Tolbi's desk. "Besides, you don't have to play the hero all the time, you know."

Defeated again, Bomberman simply went to stand by Lilith, picking Pommy up from the ground so he could see.

Lilith ignored Tolbi's gesture for her to sit down at one of the round red chairs in front of his desk. "Maximum number of rounds?" she asked.

"Excellent question. Perhaps seven? Short and sweet."

She made a disgusted face. "Are you kidding me? No how, no way. Seven_teen_ at the very least, and that's pushing it."

"Thirteen."

"Fifteen."

"Eight wins to victory? Very well, that sounds like a good compromise."

"How many decks are we talking here?"

"Single deck."

"Let me see the deck."

Tolbi chuckled. "A fastidious one, aren't we?" But he handed the deck over to Lilith.

Lilith went through the desk, deftly flipping each card over her fingers onto the desk into an almost-perfect little stack, humming a cute little tune as she did so.

Tolbi kept his eyes on her, hands folded on his desk.

Lilith returned the gaze defiantly as she finished her first check and snatched the cards back up for another run-through.

Bomberman glanced around at Tolbi's office, trying to see if there was anything that might give the man's game away – no pun intended. The four colored lights at the back of the room drew his attention again, but he decided to chalk that one up to the oddities of rich businesspeople.

Pommy yawned and mewed.

_Flip!_

"There." Lilith tossed the last card of the deck onto the desk, apparently satisfied with what she had seen.

The casino patriarch raised an amused eyebrow. "If you were any other person," he said, "I would suggest that _you_ be the one to deal the cards, for all the work you were doing making sure that there's no tricks from the get-go."

"But I'm not just any other person, am I?" Lilith leaned forward with a strangely seductive smile, resting her elbows on the desk and her chin in her hands. "Go ahead. Deal me."

And the game began.

Tolbi dealt out two cards to Lilith, then two cards to himself, flipping one of them over: the seven of hearts. He checked his other card, and then motioned to Lilith to make her move.

Lilith peeked at her cards. She scraped them against the desk.

Tolbi dealt a third card. Lilith checked it, then tossed all three of her cards face-up onto the desk with a disappointed sigh.

"Ah, a bust, is it? Such a shame." Tolbi smoothly collected the discarded cards, shuffled them, and re-dealt.

After the initial bust, Lilith collected two wins before hitting a losing streak. At the fourth straight loss, she shot Tolbi a dirty look.

Tolbi's face remained blandly pleasant as he dealt another hand – which he went on to eventually lose.

The game continued; Lilith scored two more losses in a row.

"Myu, Pommy's worried," Pommy said to Bomberman. "It's looking really bad for Lilith!"

Tolbi swiftly dealt the eleventh round hands for himself and Lilith. His face-up card was the ace of spades, so he checked his facedown card. "Well, what do you know," he said, and he flipped it over triumphantly to reveal the jack of clubs. He swept his hands out over the table like an emperor showing off his conquered lands on a map. "Blackjack. You lose the game, my dear."

Despite the grim situation, Lilith was grinning in a manner that Bomberman honestly found rather frightening. "And _you_," she responded, "lose at life."

_SMACK!_

Her hand shot out like a viper and swatted one of Tolbi's wrists.

Out of Tolbi's pristine white sleeve tumbled a few extra cards.

Bomberman and Pommy boggled at the spectacle.

"That's not nice!" Pommy exclaimed. "That's cheating, myu!"

Tolbi waved back his guards, who had started forward when Lilith had struck out. "I wouldn't be so self-righteous if I were you, woman," he warned. "Don't think I didn't see you marking those high cards with your nail while you were supposedly checking the deck for evidence of _my_ trickery."

Both Bomberman and Pommy gave Lilith redirected their stunned looks at Lilith.

Lilith laughed. It was not a happy sound. "Looks like neither of us had intentions of playing a clean game."

"Clean or not, _you _are the one who lost the game. Hand over yourselves and those Elementals of yours, if you please."

"As a matter of fact, I _don't_ please, thank you kindly," Lilith retorted, turning to leave.

_BANG!_

A gunshot whizzed by her cheek, barely grazing it.

She stopped in her tracks, her expression impassive.

"Myu!" Pommy squealed, shaking a round paw at Tolbi. "That almost hit her, you jerks!"

The red-suited bodyguard aimed a gun straight between Lilith's shoulder blades. The rest of the guards brandished sleek metal batons.

"Come now, my dear, sore losers aren't any fun to play with," Tolbi said.

Lilith only smirked. "Ah, but playtime is over," she said. "YAH!" She whirled around and sent a glowing dagger of chi energy flying.

_FWWWSH!_

The red-suited guard stepped aside just in time to avoid getting it in the throat. He snarled and aimed his gun –

_POOOF!_

Dark grey smoke clouded the office, courtesy of a smoke bomb.

Tolbi and his guards began coughing profusely. "Why you – !" he snarled.

"Let's go!" Bomberman yelled, making a run for the doors with Pommy still in his arms.

"_Get them!"_ Tolbi ordered furiously. He fumbled around in his jacket and yanked out a walkie-talkie. "Guards! In my office, _now!_"

As Bomberman and Lilith cleared the smoke, they found themselves barred from escape by a line of five black-suited guards.

"Hah!" Lilith hurled three glowing chi knives at the guards.

_FWSH-FWSH-FWSH!  
_

One got it between the eyes and dropped to the floor.

Another two spun/ducked and continued running.

Bomberman sprinted, leapt, and spun in mid-air to deliver a whirling roundhouse kick to their heads.

_WHAM-WHAM! _

"Aaagh!" They let out a stereo cry of pain and stumbled back over a fake pedestal plant. _CR-CRASH!_

The fifth guard rushed them with a wildly waving baton. "_Hi-yaaaah_ – _!_"

Lilith stepped to the outside of the swing to dodge it, then grabbed the back collar of his jacket and flung him aside before running again.

In the meantime, Bomberman had crossed the distance to the doors and opened one of them –

_WHACK!_

A foot snapped out and caught him in the face.

"Argh!" He flew back and dropped Pommy.

"Myuuu!" Pommy scrambled away from the action, hiding behind a pedestal.

More guards stampeded in from the doors, all armed with silver batons.

"Dammit!" Bomberman swore. Ignoring the pain in his jaw, he jumped to his feet and struck out at the nearest guard with a fist, but the guard countered by stepping inside the punch and swinging the baton onto Bomberman's arm – _WHAM! _– and then shoving him backwards with a swift kick to the stomach, sending him into Lilith, who was just coming up behind him. _WHUMP!_

"Aah!" The two of them collapsed into a heap.

In a quick shuffle of feet on carpet, they were surrounded in a circle of black suits and silver batons.

Bomberman growled as he stood up again, rubbing his bruised arm.

Tolbi laughed as he was being escorted along the perimeter of the room by his red-suited guard. "You play a risky game, you two!" he called out. "I admire that. I admire that greatly.

"Alas..." The red-suited guard opened the door for Tolbi, and the gambling mogul stopped in mid-exit to cast one last sly glance behind him. "As Miss Lilith herself said...playtime is over."

Tolbi disappeared into the outside world. The guard silently followed after him.

The door swung shut.

_Cl-click!_

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

...mayhem erupted.

"HAH!" Lilith flicked out her left wrist and then her right wrist in quick succession, scattering the guards in her line of vision with a spray of golden chi knives.

_FWSH-FWSH-FWSH-FWSH-FWSH – _

Three of them fell to the floor with knives embedded in their knees or legs.

"HYAAAAH!" A guard hopped over his fallen comrade, baton held high.

Lilith slid to his side, grabbed his sleeve, and slammed him face-first into the carpet.

_WHAM!_

Before he could get up, Lilith planted a foot onto his back and leapt forward to bitchslap another guard aside, shoving him into the one behind him. She swiveled to catch another baton from above in her bare hands.

Her eyes briefly locked gazes with the guard's as the two of them refused to give way to each other.

...her eyes flashed golden.

With a grin, she bent the thick metal into a 'U' shape.

The guard's mouth dropped open.

"Keep that mouth closed or I'll find something to put in it," Lilith chided. "Namely, _this._" She snatched the bent baton out of the guard's hands and clocked him in the jaw with its blunt side.

_WHONK! _He went spinning.

Not missing a beat, Lilith turned to face down another guard. She flipped the bent baton so that its open end pointed at the guard, then pushed it onto his throat, encircling it. Before he could even realize what had happened, she had spun him around so that his back faced her. She turned, pressing her back against his, reached up and behind her to grab the ends of the bent baton, and dropped into a squat, pulling on the twisted metal.

The guard somersaulted awkwardly over flailing legs kicked at an incoming guard before he crashed to the ground. _THWACK! KA-WHAM!_

Lilith shot back up and shoved a chi knife into the shoulder of the guard next to her. She jumped back from his desperate baton swing...and two arms, one bearing a baton, snaked under hers and flexed upwards, locking her body against the body of the guard behind her. The guard's metal baton pressed laterally across her, digging into her collarbone.

"Oh no you don't!" she shouted. She snapped her head back, smacking her skull into the nose of the guard behind her, then – still locked with the guard – ducked as the previous guard attacked again. His baton went sailing right into his partner's head. _SMACK!_

"Urgh!" Her captor collapsed on top of her.

Lilith shrugged him off, straightened up, and stuck a second chi knife into the shoulder of the guard who'd just attacked. She planted a foot into his chest and shoved him away.

Two more guards charged her. She flung out a few more chi knives, but they missed their mark. Growling, she summoned a larger chi dagger instead, and prepared to meet the guards head-on –

– as a white pedestal sailed into her view like a flying battering ram, bowling both of the guards over. _CRASH!_

Skidding to a startled stop, Lilith looked to the side.

Bomberman looked back at her and gave her a thumbs-up.

She smiled at him...then frowned. "Behind you!" she called before whipping around with the dagger to slash a guard who was back for revenge.

Bomberman glanced backwards, and just barely sidestepped a vertical baton swing. He jumped onto the baton, pinning it to the ground, then did a hands-free backflip, catching the guard in the chin with his feet.

_WHAM!_

The guard's head snapped up painfully. He fell backwards, groaning.

Bomberman landed with his hands on the baton. He snatched it up as he sprung back onto his feet, and swung out at an approaching guard.

_Cl-clang!_ The guard quickly blocked, backstepped, and jabbed.

Bomberman stepped to the outside of the jab, pushed the guard's arm down with his free hand, and swung out again, practically clotheslining the guard with the baron.

_WHACK!_

"Urgh!" His arms and legs flailed as he fell.

A feral yell from behind warned Bomberman of another attack. He engaged in a brief baton duel with the next guard – _clang-clang-clang-clang – _but was pushed backwards into a pedestal. He tumbled over it and knocked it and the plant it was holding over, landing backfirst on top of the cheesy decoration. _FWUMP!_

"Ack!" Gritting his teeth, he shot out one foot in the air to block an attack, then used his other foot to shove the guard away. He rolled off the pedestal to avoid a second swing, got to his knees, and hurled the fallen plant at the guard.

_WHAP!_

The guard only batted it away.

Bomberman reared back and hurled his own baton like a javelin.

_FWOOOSH-__**BONK!**_

It hit dead-center in the guard's forehead. His eyes rolled back as he conked out. _FWUMP!_

_STOMP-STOMP-STOMP-STOMP –_

Bomberman dove over the fallen pedestal to avoid another attack from behind. He kicked the pedestal at the guard, but missed wide. He grabbed another plant and tossed it, but that missed as well.

The guard let out a yell, surged forward, and swung again.

Bomberman hopped back from the attack onto the now plant-less pedestal, landing on the balls of his feet. He leaned back a little and held on for balance before kicking out with the foot nearest to the guard, knocking the baton from his fingers.

_THWACK!_

"Oww!" The guard grimaced and shook out his hand.

In one motion, Bomberman swung out his other leg – catching the guard across the cheek – twisted his body, alighted on the floor, picked up the pedestal he'd just been standing on, and whirled around with it to slam it into the guard.

_KA-WHAAMM!_

The guard crumpled to the ground in pain, moaning.

"Incoming!" Lilith's voice called.

Bomberman dropped to his knees as an unconscious guard flew overhead, taking out two other guards with him.

_WHOOOSH-CRASH!_

He glanced up to see Lilith fending off two guards with one of the red chairs near Tolbi's desk. "Hang on, I'm coming to help!" he yelled, running towards her.

_SLA-MASH! _A baton hit home in the middle of his back.

"Oof!" Bomberman crashed onto his stomach. His vision wavered for a few moments, but he recovered enough of his wits to trip the guard behind him. _FWUMP!_

Not to be deterred so easily, the guard reached out and grabbed one of Bomberman's legs, but Bomberman drove a heel into the guard's wrist, shoving him off. As soon as he stood up again, however, Bomberman had to contend with two baton-wielding guards – no, make that _three_ at this point, as soon as the other guard got to his feet. They surrounded him in a triangular formation.

Bare-handed, Bomberman frowned determinedly and settled into a defensive stance.

The two in front of him charged at the same time, batons waving.

"RAAUGH!"

"HI-YAH!"

Bomberman ran towards the one on his right. At the last moment, he slid, ducked, reached above him to grab the guard by his shirt, and spun with the guard's momentum to slam him into his partner.

_CRASH!_

They fell into a twisted, groaning pile.

The other guard quickly joined the fray. He rushed and slashed his baton forward, gripping it two-handed like a sword.

_FWOOSH! _First swing missed.

_FWOOSH! _Second swing missed.

The third swing was intercepted on the downward path as Bomberman stepped forward and caught the guard's clenched hands in his open palms. He swiftly snatched the baton before kneeing the guard in the groin.

_WHAM!_

The guard keeled, cursing.

Bomberman stepped out to the side and drove the far end of it into the stomach of a guard coming up behind him. As the guard doubled over in agony, Bomberman spun, twirling the baton in his hand as he did so, and brought the thing down onto the guard's head, knocking him out. _SMASH!_

Panting, Bomberman looked up just in time to see Lilith slam a guard's head into Tolbi's desk, actually cracking the edge of it and sending wood splinters flying.

_WHAM!_

Lilith tossed the groaning, cross-eyed guard away, then reached up to flick some hair away from her face. "Well," she said, exhaling. "That went...well."

Bomberman gave a quick glance to the trashed office, where guards lay unconscious or in too much pain to move – although he saw one scramble to his feet and make a quick getaway through the doors. Tolbi, of course, was long gone. "For a twisted definition of the word 'well', sure," he responded, trotting over to join her at the desk.

"Wish I could've brought my guns with me, but not even _I_ would have been able to sneak my arsenal past the metal detectors at this casino." She cast a sidelong glance at Bomberman. "I didn't hear much in the way of explosions on your end. You didn't use your bombs?"

A beat.

Bomberman only shrugged. "I didn't need to."

Lilith gave a smile. "If you say so." She picked up a large, heavy-looking red binder and was about to open the cover –

"GRAAAAUGH!" One last guard charged at them, nostrils flaring.

Bomberman snatched the binder out of Lilith's hands and smacked the guard in the head with it, then followed up with a sharp kick.

_WH-WHACK!_

The guard sailed back from the impact and tumbled into the corner. He went limp, bleeding from slash wounds likely inflicted by Lilith earlier.

Lilith pouted. "I was looking at that, you know."

Bomberman simpered. "Sorry." He handed the binder back to Lilith. "What is this, anyway?"

"Judging from the cover page...it seems like a record of the money flow for this casino." She set the thing down on the desk and flipped through chunks of pages to get at more recent records. Her eyes fell upon a series of charts and graphs. She nibbled on her bottom lip in thought, shuffling the pages back before returning to her current spot.

Bomberman peered over her shoulder. "Hey..." he said as he began processing the significance of the numbers. "Look at that drop in their revenue from about a year and a half ago."

"Not surprising," Lilith said. "That would just about coincide with when Calerodinia was first caught in the black hole – they would've lost a lot of wealthy clientele from the Metroseti branch of the Thalian Empire."

"Oh, so _this_ is Calerodinia." Bomberman knew about it from hearing some of his superiors talk about their various interstellar missions, but he'd never visited it before and wasn't overly familiar with the individual planets that comprised it.

"Yeah – they're the most recent solar system to receive a friendly visit from the BHB Army. Starlight is an artificial satellite of Epikyur, which is one of the native planets that survived the descent into the black hole." She flipped forward a few pages. "Aha! A list of investors!" She ran a finger down a list of names and money amounts. "Wynne Wireless, Hu Sib Kwan Smelting Co., Tarchner's...these are all known fronts for the BHB Army! The army's been funding this casino!" Another few page flips. "And in return, the casino's been channeling some of its massive revenue back to the army. Oh, man, Darrington's going to _love_ this!" She began ripping out pages from the binder, folding the papers into small squares and then stuffing them into the pockets of her shorts. When she had no more room in her pockets, she promptly stuck the last of the folded pages down the front of her shirt.

Bomberman turned red and looked away.

Lilith noticed. "What?" she asked, amused. "Where else am I going to put these, in my underwear?" She laughed and patted a further-flustered Bomberman on the shoulder. "You're too easy to tease – it's making me feel guilty."

He decided to distract himself by searching a file cabinet next to the desk. "So, uh, you don't suppose that Tolbi would've kept anything about the Gravity Generator around here, would you?"

"Only one way to find out." Lilith closed the red binder and was about to reach for a large brown envelope to go through when she realized something.

"Hey...where'd Pommy go?"


	36. Starlight: Marshmallow Ninja

"Myuuu," Pommy mused to himself as he scurried quietly along the hallway, trailing a safe distance behind Tolbi and his top bodyguard. "It's a good thing that Pommy snuck out of the room while the door was still open, or Pommy would still be trapped in there!" He pouted. "Pommy hopes Bomberman and Lilith are okay, because those were a lot of guards!" He sighed. "Well, while they're busy, Pommy will talk to Mr. Tolbi and get to the bottom of things for them!"

The creature had no worries that he would lose track of Tolbi. After all, he had enhanced hearing and could hear the footsteps of the man and his bodyguard, soft as they were. Unfortunately, Pommy wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do once he revealed himself and confronted Tolbi about the important information that Bomberman and Lilith said they were looking for. His plan of action at the moment looked something like:

1) Follow Tolbi

2) ???

3) Get Information!

A lesser puffball would have despaired at such a vague plan, but Pommy rather liked the simplicity of it. He pondered what to put in the second step. Judging from the biblical plague of guards that Tolbi summoned on Bomberman and Lilith back in the office, it didn't seem like the man was in a mood to have a casual chat over a cup of cappuccino, so Pommy mentally filled in "Use Extreme Violence" under step 2. He'd seen it work on TV a couple of times, so he was sure that it wouldn't fail him now.

The main problem, Pommy figured as he peeked around a corner, was that scary guy in the red suit next to Tolbi. He'd almost killed Lilith with that gun of his (Pommy was still infuriated about that one), and he was liable to kill Pommy with it too, if he wasn't careful. It would be a good idea to try to get the gun away from him somehow, but Pommy wasn't sure how he'd do that. Maybe it would be better if he just kept on running...

"Mr. Tolbi," the guard asked, "where are we going?"

"The basement," Tolbi answered. "We'll wait until we get word from the other guards that they've dealt appropriately with both Bomberman and Lilith. They've got orders to take those two alive, if possible. In the meantime, we can page the BHB Army from the generator room down there and notify them of Bomberman and Lilith's presence here on Starlight."

"And if the guards can't take those two? They're just grunts, and from what I know, your guests aren't ones to be messed with. In particular, Lilith – "

"I know well enough about her, Iodem," Tolbi snapped, "and about Bomberman as well." He snorted. "But even if they were to evade capture initially, the BHB Army would catch them here sooner or later. They won't leave until they find the generator; their determination is their weakness." There was a rustle of fabric and a soft jangle as Tolbi pulled out something from his shirt. "And even if they figure out where the generator is, they can't get in without these card keys."

Pommy quickly catalogued the information he'd just heard. _Basement + generator room + card keys = Important Things!_

He spotted Tolbi and the guard – named Iodem, apparently – stepping into what looked like a freight elevator. He popped back behind the corner before he could be seen, and waited until he heard the elevator recede down the shaft a little before scuttling forward to explore the rest of the area. _Pommy needs to get to the basement and get those card keys! _he thought. _But there's only one elevator here, and freight elevators are really slow. _

From the freight elevator, Pommy headed right. He looked around the next corner, and was delighted to find a sign hanging from the ceiling helpfully pointing out a door leading to a set of stairs. He was less delighted to find that, as usual, he couldn't reach the door handle. Still, something was better than nothing. He shoved himself against the door in the hopes that it might magickally give way to the sheer force of his Epic Heroism, to no avail.

"Myuuuu," Pommy grumbled, stepping back from the door and glaring at it. "Now what will Pommy do? The freight elevator's not back yet, and by the time Pommy gets on it and goes down, Tolbi and that jerk with him will probably be gone." He sighed. "Pommy wishes Bomberman were here." He suddenly shook his head furiously, his ears flopping around him as he did so. "No! Pommy doesn't need Bomberman! Pommy can do this on his own!" He tapped a paw to his chin (...or thereabouts) as he thought. "Pommy needs to find a way to turn the door handle..."

The creature backtracked to the freight elevator and took a different path. This one led to a series of office doors, some left open and some closed. Leaning against the wall near the second open door was a wet umbrella, with a curved handle.

"Myu!" Pommy zoomed forward and snatched the umbrella, grimacing slightly at the cold water still clinging to the fabric. He dragged the thing back to the stairwell door, where he hooked it around the handle and tugged on it. Pommy once again applied his (admittedly scant) weight against the door, and it swung open with a click. With that mission objective accomplished, Pommy abandoned the umbrella for its owner to find later and hopped down the stairs as fast as he could, hoping that he wasn't too late to catch Tolbi.

To his immense relief, one of the doors at the bottom of the basement was already open. As he entered, his ears were assaulted with the hum of the air conditioning and other various machines that Pommy didn't know the names of, disorienting him for a few moments.

But with enough concentration, Pommy was able to pick out the sound of footsteps on the bare concrete floor and the gentle swish of clothes on an ambulatory body. He turned and saw Tolbi and his bodyguard heading in the opposite direction of him. Feeling a bit vulnerable, he snatched a wrench from the top of an open toolbox lying on the ground next to a worktable and followed after them, waiting for his chance to pounce.

Tolbi and his bodyguard traveled through the gritty, noisy corridors, talking about This Thing or That Thing. Initially the conversation revolved around the operation of Tolbi Casino, but soon it veered upon the topic of Tolbi's health problems (of which there were many, apparently). They eventually reached a large garage area, strewn with cardboard boxes, grimy forklifts, and a few workers going about their usual duties. Pommy skittered from one hiding place to the next as he continued following Tolbi and Iodem. As he peeked around a loaded dolly stacked high with metal cylinders, Pommy saw them heading towards an elevator located off in a corner of the hold.

_Not another elevator, myu!_ he thought, panicked. _And it doesn't look like there's a set of stairs anywhere near here, and if Pommy goes to look for one, Pommy might not be able to find Tolbi again! _He gulped, clutching the wrench he held as he realized he had only one option left if he wanted to find out where the Gravity Generator was. _Pommy's scared, but...a mimic's gotta do what a mimic's gotta do!_

B-O-M-B

"Then I told the asshole, you know what? You can just take your damn plan and give _yourself_ a prostate exam with it!" Tolbi grumbled, huffing as he walked across the shipping garage. The creases on his face deepened with the exertion of his steps. "It's a sad, cruel world when even a rich bastard like me can't afford decent health care."

"Tragic, indeed," Iodem replied, his words edged ever so slightly with sarcasm.

"That last heart surgery I had chewed through my money like a starving kid chews through taffy," continued Tolbi. "Dalia was pissed with me for that, because I couldn't get her the vacation home in Jae Bin Lai that I promised her for her nameday. Said I wouldn't have needed the surgery if I'd stopped eating all those steaks like she told me to." He snorted. "If there's one thing people need to know in life, it's that you never get between a man and his meat, you know what I mean?"

"Not really," Iodem droned. "I'm vegan."

Pause.

Tolbi raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't envy you your life."

"The feeling is very, very mutual."

They stopped in front of the brushed metal elevator doors. Tolbi rummaged through his pants pockets, then his blazer pockets. He frowned. "Iodem, do you have the elevator key?"

Iodem wordlessly produced a flat, square-ish metal key from seemingly nowhere.

"I knew I could count on you." Tolbi took it and inserted it into a panel next to the elevator door, twisting it to open the doors. As Tolbi and Iodem stepped inside, Tolbi reached out and jabbed a thumb at the "close door" button, then turned to Iodem. "So, let me just ask you – "

_thump-thump-thump-..._

Iodem threw a glance over his shoulder and frowned. "How the hell did that thing...?"

"What – " Tolbi started.

_thump-thump-thump-__**thump-thump-THUMP!**_

_"TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!" _Pommy leapt and wedged the wrench horizontally between the closing elevator doors – _CLANK! –_ stalling them for a moment. Like a gymnast on the bars, he swung up and around the wrench twice in quick succession before launching himself into the air – taking the wrench with him and allowing the elevator doors to close – as a whirling flurry of fluff and metal. He clocked Tolbi in the collarbone with the open end of the tool.

_WHACK! THUD!_

"Ugh!" Tolbi stumbled back against the elevator wall, wincing.

As Pommy fell, he caught a hold of the lanyard holding the four card keys. "Myu, give these card keys to Pommy or Pommy will punish you in the name of the moon!" he growled, clinging stubbornly to the nylon cord with one hand and smacking at Tolbi with the wrench in his other hand.

"Ow! Get off me – ow! – you damn dirty – ow! – whatever-you-are-_OW!_" Tolbi seized a hold of Pommy, trying to pull the creature off him. Pommy quickly switched the target of his wrench's wrath from Tolbi's stomach to Tolbi's hand.

_TH-THWACK!_

Tolbi swore wildly, dropping Pommy.

Pommy swung back towards Tolbi, planted his feet against Tolbi's abdomen, and continued his efforts to claim the cards. He tried to scramble up the lanyard, but suddenly realized that holding the wrench made that particular endeavor a wee bit difficult. He paused as he reconsidered his plans.

"Allow me, Mr. Tolbi." Iodem pulled the gun from his shoulder holster.

"Don't use that thing here!" Tolbi snapped. "And not while he's still on me!"

Iodem smiled grimly. "You doubt my aim?"

"I doubt _the frickin' round dog crawling on me! _Get him off!"

Around them, the elevator descended with a hum.

"Really, it _would_ just be easier if I put a bullet through this thing's brain," Iodem muttered, "assuming that it has any." He replaced the gun in its holster and stepped forward.

"Myu!"Pommy flung the wrench up into Iodem's face, landing a hit square on his nose. _WHONK!_

"Augh!" Iodem's palms flew to his face, catching the blood streaming from his nostrils. He sniffled and swept the crimson liquid away with the back of his hand. "Okay, that's _it,_ this thing is _dead!_"

"Uh-oh!" Pommy scaled the lanyard in record-breaking time (were there such a record for "Climbing Up a Lanyard Cord Attached to a Furious Casino Owner With His Bodyguard Set to Kill Mode"). He snatched the lanyard cord, hopped on top of Tolbi's head with it in hand, and then dropped to the floor, yanking the thing from Tolbi's frantic fingers. "Got it!" he exclaimed. He started to run –

_STOMP! _Iodem's foot landed on one of the cards, pinning the lanyard to the ground and causing Pommy to tumble backwards. "I don't think so," he sneered, bending over to reach for the cards.

Pommy promptly bit the side of his hand. _CHOMP!_

"Son of a _bitch!"_ Iodem swung his arm wildly as he attempted to shake Pommy off without also taking off a chunk of his own skin.

"Nom nom nom" was Pommy's only response.

_Ding-ding! _

The elevator settled to a halt. The metal doors slid open with barely a sound.

With a growl, Iodem finally flung Pommy off his arm and into the brightly lit hallway now open before them.

"Myuuuu!" Pommy sailed through the air, still miraculously clutching the lanyard. He bounced into a wall ("Oof!") before crashing to the floor ("Oww!"). As he got to his feet, he saw Iodem pull out his gun and aim. Pommy yelped a particularly vibrant expletive (learned from Bomberman but embellished with The Pommy Touch™), clamped down on the lanyard cord with his teeth, and took off at top speed as Iodem opened fire.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Pommy zigzagged his way to the first intersection and veered right, almost crashing into a bucket of sudsy water and a mop leaning against the wall. He reached out with a round paw and knocked the mop over just as Iodem rounded the corner.

_THWACK! _The mop handle clocked Iodem in the head.

"Dah!" Momentarily distracted, Iodem stumbled around a bit – and ended up tripping over the bucket, spilling its contents.

_CRASH-KA-SPLASH!_

A disgruntled man in a janitorial uniform poked his upper body out of an open door just as Pommy sprinted by, a cheek bulging with half-chewed food. He frowned at the commotion and the new mess in the hallway. "Hey, what's the big idea? I just finished that – "

_WHAP!_ Iodem backhanded him out of the way as he passed by, slamming the man's head into the doorframe. The man slumped to the floor, dazed.

Tolbi paused a moment. He ran inside the room, grabbed a still-cold fountain soda sitting on a table next to a sandwich, and stuck it in one of the man's hands.

The man stared up at Tolbi, irritated and googly-eyed.

"What?" Tolbi said, narrowing his eyes. "Go to the infirmary or something if you want an ice pack." He jogged off to catch up with Iodem.

Meanwhile, Pommy skidded on the tile as he put down a hand for balance and swung a hard left, the card keys arcing around him with his momentum. He continued straight past an intersection, having absolutely no clue where he was going. He tried to listen for the hum of the Gravity Generator, like he had back on Aquanet, but there were too many other machine-like sounds mixed in and he was too distracted running for his life to differentiate them. He was so distracted by this minor issue, in fact, that he ran straight into a pair of femininely-shoed feet emerging from a side door.

"Myu!" Pommy tripped and tumbled over the toes, landing with his face in the tile. _WHUMP! _"Ow..." He rolled over and quickly disentangled himself from the lanyard.

"Oh!" The woman's blond curls bounced around her face as she squatted down. "Hey, are you okay? Are you lost?"

"Aha! There you are!" Iodem's shout rang through the halls, his feet pounding out an impending death beat on the floor as he ran.

"Uh-oh!" Pommy scrambled up the woman's leg and into her billowy cotton dress.

"YEEEEEK!" The woman could only waddle awkwardly in place like a crucified penguin as Pommy sought shelter under her clothes.

Iodem slowed to a stop. "Not to worry, miss," he said, "just stay still and I'll deal with him for you." He aimed a hand at what he thought was a suspiciously large lump squirming just below the small of her back –

_SWAT! _The "lump" clambered out of the way just in time.

"AAAH!" The woman flinched before glaring at Iodem. "Pervert! That was my ass!"

Iodem turned red. "Wait, I didn't mean – "

She slapped him. _KA-__**THWAP**__!_

Pommy peeked out from the V-shaped neckline of the woman's dress, eliciting another startled yelp from her. "Myu, time to fly!" He launched himself from her collarbone and onto a recovering Iodem's head – _TH-THUMP!_ – and then sprang up from there into an airborne somersault. He hit the floor running and zoomed right through the open legs of a surprised Tolbi as he backtracked to the last intersection and took a different path.

_Myu! _Pommy thought as he ran. _Pommy needs to find a place to hide! Pommy's way faster than these guys, but Pommy's starting to get tired! But where... _He suddenly glimpsed the path to salvation up ahead. Well, perhaps it was more like "the longer road to hell," all things considered.

Whatever it was, Pommy gathered the card keys into his paws and picked up his pace...

B-O-M-B

Breathing hard, and rubbing the spot on his face where he'd gotten slapped earlier, Iodem skidded to a stop in the middle of the hall.

He looked around him.

Right.

Left.

Ahead.

Behind.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

"Damn!" He stomped his foot. "He's gone."

Tolbi snorted as he caught up with Iodem, although the disdain in the action was muted by his comically red and sweaty face. "That thing couldn't have gotten far," he panted, bending over and resting his hands on his knees. "I bet he got or is getting lost in these halls. Leustheria knows even _I_ get lost here sometimes."

"Tch." Annoyed, Iodem kicked at a haphazard pile of large cardboard boxes in a shallow alcove off to the side, denting one of them slightly. "I'll go look for him and get the card keys back. Wait for me in warehouse 9B."

Tolbi nodded. The two headed in opposite directions.

Silence descended in their wake, but tripped on the rattling of a dolly cart in some faraway corridor. It gracefully recovered and marched stately forward.

...

...

...

...

...

"...myuuu," Pommy mewed, peeking out from an oblong pre-cut hole in the side of the dented box. "That was close – Pommy thought he'd be discovered for sure! Good thing Pommy chewed on this cord to keep quiet." He crawled out from under the box with the partly-frayed lanyard in hand and lifted one floppy ear into the air to track a certain someone's footsteps. "Well, Pommy will go see where Tolbi is going! Hopefully it's to the generator room."

B-O-M-B

Augustus Tolbi walked briskly through the maze of the sub-basement of the executive wing of his namesake casino. He nodded brief, silent greetings to any workers that he happened to meet along the way, but this particular area of the basement was mostly empty during this time of day. The _real_ workday began at night, when soldiers from the BHB Army used this level as a safe haven for resting, restocking, and planning. It was a bit of an annoyance, but the funds that the BHB Army gave him in return for his cooperation helped keep his large business afloat while others crashed, burned, and sank (and sometimes not even in that order).

Of course, it also helped that the one to negotiate this particular contract had been the unearthly beautiful Odessa – or Zhael, rather, though she preferred for him to call her Odessa. The young woman had been quite persuasive in her...reasoning. Tolbi had fallen for her at first glance, intrigued by her beauty, her wit, her talent. Somewhere in the rounded corners of his artery-clogged heart, he'd known that he was being used by her, that she hadn't cared a single whit about him at all. But her affection, loveless as it was, had still been enough for his ailing body to live on, and the short-lived affair he'd had with her had been worth the pain of her inevitable loss. Worth the invasion of the strange, soulless soldiers into his business haven.

Worth an eventual run-in with the infamous Scourge of the Spaceways.

Tolbi shuddered even as he found himself amused at the memory of his first face-to-face encounter with Lilith Reynard. Such a pretty young thing was not what he had expected at all from the Scourge who had offed many of his business competitors _and_ partners, and severely damaged the operations of other peers with her piracy and assassinations. She couldn't have been much older than Odessa, or perhaps even slightly younger than her! He supposed that was why he hadn't felt much threatened by Lilith initially. And her companion – the one called "Bomberman" – didn't look all that impressive either. Tolbi had a hard time believing that someone who looked like he'd barely gotten out of high school could be causing so much trouble for the formidable BHB Army, but he wasn't privy to the full range of BHB intelligence on this particular wanted criminal. All he knew was that the BHB Army would handsomely reward anyone who caught Bomberman and Lilith, and money was the new oxygen these days.

And where money was involved, Tolbi knew no fear.

So he'd started up a rigged blackjack game with one of the most dangerous pirates known to current society, gambling with her freedom. Because clearly there was nothing, nothing at all, that could have gone wrong with _that_ scenario. But if there was one area where he thought he could match or even best the Scourge, it was gambling – and cheating at it. He'd won, of course, despite Lilith's own attempts to turn the game in her favor, but it hadn't mattered in the end; she hadn't taken the outcome lying down. In retrospect, he really should've anticipated that and just sicced his guards on her earlier. After all, what else but violence could be expected of a woman of her dubious title?

_No matter – I got out of there alive, and that's what matters, _Tolbi reassured himself. He didn't sound very convincing._ Even if the other guards can't deal with her, once the BHB Army gets their hands on her she'll be out of my hair for good. _He self-consciously ran a hand through the greying black strands on his head. _Not that I seem to have much of it nowadays._

Tolbi stopped in front of a black door marked "9B." This was one of the main rooms "rented" by the BHB soldiers as a hideaway. Only another BHB soldier, Iodem, or Tolbi himself could access this room or others like it. Tolbi pressed a gray card key to the flat reader just off to the side, and the door swung open.

The spacious warehouse reeked faintly of sweat and cigarette smoke. It had initially been built and used to house one of Tolbi's more...illegal...business operations. Most of the movable apparatuses and the inventory had been moved to a different warehouse, but the larger machines remained bolted to the floor, and in one corner there were a few rows of shelves holding boxes of old but still important documents. The warehouse was dotted with sleeping bags, garbage, clothes, empty boxes, and other miscellany. Crowded around one large machine were stacks of food rations and canned beverages. A collection of guns and other such tools of carnage were piled under a metal staircase to an upper level, where the control room for the warehouse was located.

Tolbi kicked aside a sleeping bag in his path as he headed up the stairs and crossed the grated metal platform to the control room. He unlocked the door. Inside, three large switchgear panels lined the length of the wall. He ignored them and headed for a matte black computer screen built into the wall perpendicular to the switchgears. The screen flared into life at the touch of his fingers, displaying a keypad with odd characters. Tolbi carefully tapped in a code.

Not far from the control room, in a conspicuously empty area of the warehouse, a steel column emerged with a whirr from a now-open slot right next a large metal door. The top of the column stood waist-high and was cut at a diagonal, like the sheared tip of a bamboo stalk. It sported four identical card readers in a row.

Tolbi shut off the screen with another well-placed tap of his finger and sighed in relief. He'd done all he could for the moment. Now it was time to rest and wait.

Rest and wait...

_CH-CHK!_

Tolbi blinked, and stood deathly still.

"_D-don't move!_" came Pommy's squeaky voice. "Or Pommy shoots!"

Tolbi laughed. "I'd be surprised if you even knew how to use that thing," he retorted, his posture visibly relaxing.

"What's so hard about using a gun, myu?" Pommy shot back. He stood in the doorway of the control room, clutching a black handgun in his paws. He wore the lanyard of card keys around his...er...neck area. "All you do is pull the trigger, right?"

"Did you even check if it's loaded?"

"...myu? How do you do that?"

Pause.

"..._GRAAAAUGH!"_ Tolbi roared and whirled on Pommy.

"Myu!" Pommy dropped the gun in fright and sprinted from the door.

Tolbi rushed over to snatch the gun from the floor. He ran out to the railing and aimed...but Pommy was nowhere to be seen, even from his high vantage point.

"I'd just give up those card keys if I were you!" Tolbi called. "After all, I'm sure neither of us would want to see what this gun could do to your little body!"

B-O-M-B

Hiding under a generously large pile of sleeping bags and dirty clothes, Pommy shivered after hearing Tolbi's threat. _Now what will Pommy do? _he whimpered. _Pommy has no weapon now, and if Pommy runs out to try and get one, Pommy might get shot! _He sniffed and then made a violently disgusted face. _But if Pommy stays here any longer, Pommy will suffocate from this smell, myu!_

"Ah, but even so," Tolbi continued, his footsteps slowly descending the stairs, "I'm not a violent man at heart. I dislike violence, in fact; that's why I ran away from my military-minded family and went into business school. It's why I employ people like Iodem – Leustheria bless his vegan bones – to do this sort of dirty work. However, since he's conveniently absent at the moment, the dirty work falls upon me. But, of course, I just said that I have no fondness for this sort of thing.

"So let me amend myself." His feet touched upon the concrete warehouse floor. "If you hand over the card keys, you have my word that I won't hurt you in any way."

Pommy _almost_ considered it. Surely Bomberman and Lilith must have escaped the guards and figured out where the Gravity Generator was already. They were cool like that. (Lilith moreso than Bomberman.) And even if they didn't know, they could figure it out by themselves, couldn't they? So even if he gave up the card keys now, all three of them would still be able to find out a way in, with or without Tolbi.

But then Pommy remembered that Zhael had made a similar promise to help them out, too.

And she hadn't meant it.

At all.

_Pommy can't trust Tolbi,_ Pommy thought, resigned._ Pommy can only trust himself!_

As Tolbi continued to ramble, Pommy carefully peeked out from under the sleeping bag he was using as cover, considering possible plans. He spotted a podium with four card swipers across the way, but quickly dismissed that as an immediate option. It was way too tall for him to reach without help, and unless he dealt with Tolbi first he wouldn't have time to get something to climb onto. Pommy thought about just escaping from the warehouse and trying to find Bomberman and Lilith, but the entrance was closed, and unless he dealt with Tolbi first he wouldn't have time to find something to reach the handle with.

_...right, then_, the creature decided. _Pommy needs to knock Tolbi out before doing anything else. Time to Use Extreme Violence!_

Tolbi's left ankle, wrapped in an ugly argyle-patterned sock, suddenly loomed large in Pommy's view.

Pommy didn't think twice before chowing down.

_CHOMP!_

Tolbi let out a yelp of pain. "You goddamned son-of-a – !" He hopped around for a bit, trying to shake Pommy off. He spotted an ankle-level metal rail fencing off a machine nearby – meant to force breathing space for the contraption – and he rammed Pommy into it.

_WHAM!_

"Myu!" Dazed, Pommy released his Jaws of Death and tumbled to the floor.

Tolbi bent over (with some difficulty) and triumphantly grabbed the lanyard of card keys as Pommy was still recovering from the direct hit to his head. "I'll be taking these, thank you," he said, smirking.

"Y-you're not welcome, myu!" snarled Pommy. With one hand on the rail that had knocked him silly, he made an awkward swipe for the keys – and successfully caught hold of one of them.

Tolbi growled and yanked at the lanyard cord.

Using the rail for leverage, Pommy gritted his teeth and yanked back.

A moment's tug-of-war...

_KA-SNAP!_

The flimsy plastic clasp holding the cards together snapped.

"Myuuu!" Pommy went flying backwards in a low arc, landing painfully on the concrete next to a crushed beer can. _WHUMP!_

"Dah!" Tolbi's arms pinwheeled wildly as he stumbled back and crashed into a stack of boxes behind him.

Three of the four card keys to the Gravity Generator room clattered softly to the floor. _Cl-cl-clack!_

As soon as he recovered, Tolbi quickly swept them up and tucked them away in a pants pocket before glaring at Pommy.

Pommy innocently blinked back at him...then realized what he held in his round pink paw.

Wide-eyed, he held up the shiny red-and-white card key.

Tolbi gave a feral grin and nodded, taking a step forward.

Another pause.

...Pommy blew a raspberry and scampered off.

"Like hell you will!" Tolbi thundered. With gun firmly in hand, he slipped into the space between two machines to take a shortcut as he pursued Pommy.

Pommy glanced back to see Tolbi on his tail...metaphorically speaking. "Uh-oh!" He willed himself to run faster – not that it seemed to be doing much good.

Then again, Tolbi wasn't looking so hot, either, slowly dropping further and further behind as the two continued their wild goose chase. Clearly his history of health problems was catching up to him. Panting, he slowed to a walk, aimed, and fired three times.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

A perilously arranged four-foot-tall stack of cans right near Pommy collapsed as Tolbi's shots knocked out a couple of them, punching holes in the metal that leaked beer.

"Aaah!" Pommy was nearly swept off his feet by the deluge of cans and booze. He leapt up in time to can-roll and can-hop his way over to a stack of food ration blocks nearby. He scrambled atop the tower of fake-food just as Tolbi put a few more bullets into the side of it. Pommy reached down and began grabbing the rations from just beneath his feet and tossing them at Tolbi like bulky shuriken.

_WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH –_

Tolbi groaned as he was pelted with barely-edible foodstuffs, alternately flinching and dodging as he advanced upon Pommy. He swatted away two more rations before aiming and firing again.

_BANG!_

"Myu!" Pommy dove off the top of the food rations just as a bullet ate into the very spot where he'd been standing moments earlier. He hit the ground rolling and then sped off, swerving around miscellany in his way.

B-O-M-B

An over-exerted Tolbi tried his best to follow the hyperactive fluffball through the orderless labyrinth of warehouse 9B, to no avail: all too soon, his out-of-shape body smacked him with a white flag of surrender. The casino patriarch plopped his bottom onto a metal folding chair abandoned in an aisle between shelves of boxed documents and leaned back in it. With his free hand, he took out a handkerchief from a shirt pocket and wiped his sweaty face with it. He took big, gulping breaths as he attempted to find his normal blood pressure again.

_Damn that...that...whatever that thing is!_ he cursed. _It's too fast for me! If only Iodem were here. _His eyes narrowed. _What the hell is taking him so long, anyway? The sub-basement's a maze, true, but he's been down there often enough to know his way around. _With a frown, Tolbi pulled out his communicator and punched in Iodem's number.

_"...we're sorry, but the number you have dialed is not picking up..."_

_Pah,_ Tolbi thought, snapping the communicator shut. _Idiot probably forgot his communicator somewhere. He's good for the nitty-gritty, but he can be as senile as a turtleduck about the most common sense things. _He paused. _Do turtleducks even get senile? _He shook his head and shoved his train of thought onto a more useful track. Namely, how to deal with a certain living marshmallow.

Tolbi snorted. Of the three who showed up in his office today, he hadn't expected_ Pommy_ of all people...er...things...to give him this much trouble. The creature seemed to have a natural sugar rush going for it (_him?_) that allowed for foot escapes at mach speeds, but surely that was bound to wear out sometime, right? Only problem was, Tolbi knew he had no chance of tiring Pommy out himself. The other option – aside from just waiting for Iodem – was to go out and search for Pommy, but that would leave Tolbi open to a guerilla attack courtesy of Contra Pommy.

_Well, I didn't get anywhere in my life by just sitting around and waiting for a white knight, did I?_ Tolbi mused amusedly to himself. After another minute's rest, he placed his hands on his thighs, pushed himself to his feet...

...and promptly got conked in the skull by a half-full cardboard box of documents shoved from above.

_THUNK!_

"Gaaah!" Tolbi staggered, bumping into the opposite shelf, his eyes seeing stars and other such things. Grimacing, he looked up –

_FWAP!_

– and got smacked in the face with a cardboard box lid.

As soon as his vision cleared, Tolbi spotted a peach-colored round body hide behind a now-opened document box just before the box tipped over and spilled forth a cascade of papers. "Gotcha now!" he snarled, fetching his gun from beneath a pile of pink sheets.

"Myu!" Pommy jumped from the top shelf to the top of a row of red metal lockers lining the nearby wall, with some of their doors hanging partially open. Before Tolbi could fire off a shot, though, Pommy whirled and brandished out the card key he'd stolen. "Back off, you son-of-a-myu!" he snarled as menacingly as he could manage – which wasn't much, admittedly. "Or this card gets it!"

"...you realize that if that card happens to be destroyed or lost, I can just get a new one from the BHB Army," Tolbi said softly, stepping close to the lockers.

Pommy blinked. "M-myu? Really?"

Actually, Tolbi didn't really know. He was sure that they _could,_ not that he knew how it'd be done. But whether they _would_ was a different story. They wouldn't think highly of him for it, that was for sure. And reputation was almost as valuable in his world as money. "Indeed. You already know of my...significant...connections to the BHB Army. It would be relatively simple to exploit those and simply get a replacement."

"Then why the myu are you chasing Pommy for this card if you could just get another one from the BHB blockheads?" Pommy snapped, looking peeved.

"Hmm, let me explain my logic to you." Tolbi pretended to think. "Filing the necessary paperwork to the BHB Army: 100 Delta Dollars. Getting a Suprastel standard issue pistol from a known military hideout: free. Gunning down an innocent creature that's almost straight from some annoying children's cartoon..." He bared his teeth. "Absolutely priceless."

Pommy shivered. "P-Pommy thought that you said you didn't like violence!"

"Oh, I don't, believe you me," Tolbi said. He lifted his gun and aimed. "But I've done many things I don't like to get where I am today." He laughed. "Of course, I've done many more things that I've greatly enjoyed."

Pommy dropped his gaze to the card he was holding, weighing his options.

"Come, now," Tolbi coaxed, holding out his free hand and taking another step closer to Pommy, standing right next to the lockers. "Just hand that over and we won't have to waste any more time here. Surely you'd want to go back upstairs and help your friends out, wouldn't you?"

A long pause.

"They...they don't need Pommy's help..." Pommy murmured. He suddenly glared down at Tolbi. "And Pommy doesn't need their help, either! As the greatest hero in the universe, Pommy will defeat you!"

A derisive laugh. "Oh, really? Did you forget who's got the gun here, or are you naturally that marshmallow-brained?"

Pommy answered by dangling off the top edge of the locker with his free paw and swinging down to ferociously kick a half-opened locker door into Tolbi's face.

_WHAM!_

Tolbi stumbled to the side and dropped his gun. _CLANK!_

In half a second, Pommy landed on the ground, scampered over, and...

_WH-WHAM!_

He sent another locker door crashing into Tolbi's back.

_WHAM!_

"Argh!"

_WHAM! _

"GAAAAH!"

_WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!_

Scurrying back and forth at sugar rush speeds, Pommy bounced Tolbi's stunned body between the doors on either side of the man before...

_WHAAAMMM!_

...slamming a door one final time into Tolbi, shoving him into the dark, cobwebbed recesses of the locker.

"This ends now!" Pommy declared, jumping up. "_INDIGNATION!" _

And the little creature – guided by his memories of Bomberman's fights – roundhouse-kicked the door into closure.

_KA-__**WHAM!!**_

_Cl-click!_

Tolbi's incensed yells reverberated from within, practically rattling the metal.

Pommy landed firmly on both feet, smirking. "See?" he gloated. "Pommy told you Pommy would defeat you, right? And Pommy did!" He cackled and pointed triumphantly at the locker. "You just got _served, _myu!"

"_I'll serve __**you**__ at the buffet with a stick through your body and an apple in your mouth when I get out of here!" _Tolbi threatened, pounding his fists and feet against the closed door.

"Uh-oh!" Pommy suddenly froze in his victory dance, ignoring the rest of Tolbi's colorful ranting. "Now that Tolbi's locked in there...Pommy can't get the rest of the card keys! What will Pommy do?"

"Allow me," said a dangerously familiar voice.

_BANG! BANG! _

Two well-placed gunshots demolished the lock/handle of the locker, effectively opening the door.

"Leustheria damn you, Iodem!" Tolbi wheezed, sliding out onto the floor. _WHUMP!_ "I just had my hand on the lock! You came _thisclose_ to blowing my hand off, you trigger-happy turtleduck!"

Pommy gulped as he saw the red-suited figure of Iodem towering over him. "Oh, no..." he whimpered.

"Oh, yes, my little friend," Iodem sneered, the barrel of his gun now pointed squarely between Pommy's eyes. "How about you say hello to my _other_ little friend?"

Pommy could only duck his face and mew in desperation.

_**KA-**__**BLAAAAMM**__**!!!**_

Three nearby lockers suddenly toppled over and skidded on the concrete as an explosion blew out the wall behind them.

_SKKKRRRAAASSSHH!!_

"Myu!" Pommy flinched.

Iodem swiveled around with his gun.

"The _hell?_" Tolbi exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and backing up against the lockers.

From the smoking hole emerged...

Iodem's eyes widened. "You!" he snarled.

Pommy looked up and cheered immensely. "Myu! It's – "

Lilith grinned as her eyes glowed gold for a brief instant. She swung a boot into the locker lying just in front of her, sending it flying at Iodem. _CLAANGG!_

Iodem turned and dodged it by a hair, the metal edge just skirting his chest. The locker sailed into a shelf of boxed documents, collapsing the entire thing.

_WHAM-CRAASSH!_

Iodem swung his gun arm back around to aim at an oncoming –

_WHACK!_

Bomberman knocked the weapon from Iodem's hand with a strike to the inside of Iodem's wrist. That same hand then curled under Iodem's wrist as the back of Bomberman's free hand made contact with the underside of Iodem's jaw. Bomberman hooked a heel behind Iodem's outside foot and then – with a grunt – twisted his own body down and to the side in a sharp arc.

_WHUMP!_

Thrown off-balance, Iodem landed backfirst on the floor.

In two swift steps, Bomberman planted one sneakered foot on one of Iodem's hands and the other foot on Iodem's face.

"Mmmpph!" Iodem mumbled. His un-smooshed hand grabbed at Bomberman's ankle, trying to get his foot off his face.

Bomberman only shifted the punishment from Iodem's face to Iodem's other hand.

_STOMP!_

"AAAUGGH!" Iodem howled. "You mother-f – "

_Ka-blam!_ A low-power ice bomb encased Iodem's head, silencing him for the moment.

Bomberman exhaled down at him. "You can thank Moira for that idea, red boy." He then arched an irritated eyebrow at the pale-as-a-corpse Tolbi. "So," he uttered. "How about that Gravity Generator, huh?"


	37. Starlight: Breakaway

"Over my dead body!" Tolbi shouted, bending over for his fallen gun.

_FWSH! FWSH!_

Two chi knives embedded themselves into the floor right in front of the gun, mere centimeters away from his fingertips.

Tolbi turned and gawked at Lilith.

"Tempting prospect," she chirped, "but too messy."

Tolbi swallowed, exhaled through his nose...and slowly composed himself into something more reminiscent of the cold-hearted business king he'd been up in his office. "Hmph. Didn't think _you_ of all people would be one to be concerned about being 'messy' in a situation like this."

Lilith's eyes narrowed for a moment before she simply gave a careless sigh and an equally careless shrug with an even more careless smile. "Well, there's messy, and then there's..." She snapped a wrist out.

_FWSH!_

"Aaah!" Tolbi flinched.

"...'messy'," she finished.

An expertly thrown chi knife had sliced a hole in the side of Tolbi's pants pocket – a hole from which three brightly colored key cards spilled out.

"No!" He gasped and started forward.

In a flash, Lilith swung her forearm against his throat, slamming his head back against the locker behind him. _WHAM!_ "You just lost the game, Tolbi," she warned, her voice deceptively light. "Feel free to tell me if you're up for losing your life as well." Her eyes met his – dark chocolate brown against faded steel blue.

A tense moment stretched out and yawned like a reclining wildcat.

...Tolbi gritted his teeth and looked away.

"You truly are who – or _what_ – they say you are, Miss Reynard," he muttered.

"I never said I wasn't," she responded, still smiling. "Pommy, could you get the other cards and give them to Bomberman, please?"

"Myu, right away!" Pommy scurried over and dutifully scooped them up before trotting over to Bomberman. As Bomberman took the cards, Pommy glanced back at Lilith. "Um...can Pommy ask Lilith something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"H-how did Lilith and Bomberman know to come down here?"

"We asked one of the guards back at the office," Bomberman said as he set low-power ice bombs by Iodem's hands and feet. The resulting frosty explosions froze the bodyguard's appendages to the floor, and Bomberman safely stepped off him without worry of being attacked again. "He didn't know too many specifics, but he'd heard that something weird was going on in the lower levels, so we headed down here and poked around. We ended up running into an angry janitor who was apparently on his way to the infirmary or something, grumbling about...er, well, I won't repeat his exact words, but he wasn't too happy about Mr. Tolbi."

"I _knew_ that charity could only come around to bite me in the ass," Tolbi muttered.

Lilith frowned and further ground her arm into his neck.

"Agh! That's my esophagus, you bi – "

"When we talked to him," Bomberman continued, "he told us that he'd seen Mr. Tolbi in the sub-basement, and pointed us to it."

"But the elevator to the sub-basement is key-activated," Tolbi said, slightly hoarse. "How'd you get inside?"

"The janitor got us in."

Wide eyes. "Just like _that?_"

"Quid pro quo," Lilith said. "Or equivalent exchange, if that's the way you roll. I happened to have a remedy on me for the headache apparently inflicted on him by your hands. In return, he activated the elevator for us." She snickered. "This is why you don't piss off the little people."

"And then once we got in the sub-basement, we spotted Walking Bloodstain here" – Bomberman tilted his head towards Iodem – "wandering the halls. We tracked him to this warehouse, but didn't follow him inside. We were walking around looking for an alternate entrance when we heard the gunshots go off from inside, and, well..." A glance at the large hole in the wall. "We decided it'd be quicker if we just _made_ our own entrance."

"Well, aren't you two just the plucky pair!" Tolbi cackled. "But there's still one piece of the puzzle you're missing." He pointed.

Lilith's eyes followed the invisible path sprouting from his fingertip to the lonely bamboo-like steel stalk sprouting up next to a large door in a relatively spacious area of the warehouse. She squinted. "Is that...a combo swiper?"

"Right on the money. The cards you've got will get you to the Gravity Generator room...but only if you swipe them in the correct order." He smirked. "And you'll only get two chances to nail it before the security system nails _you_ with fifty thousand volts of electricity and then slams a cage on you! Hahaha!" He gave Lilith a positively gleeful look. "Go on, try it – make my day. Once you and your little boytoy are under bars, I'll get the BHB Army to haul you off for good!"

"I wouldn't count the chickenfishes before they're fried if I were you," Lilith remarked. "Bomberman, mind taking over for me here? I'll see what I can do about the cards."

Bomberman was silent as he studied the key cards in his hand. All four of them sported a magnetic stripe running down the right edge on one side of the cards. Etched into the other side were shimmering designs that varied in content and color for each card.

A crimson queen dancing in a flowing gown with a heart-shaped decorative collar – the Queen of Hearts.

A viridian king with a regal scepter topped with a club – the King of Clubs.

A golden knight brandishing a diamond-tipped lance – the Jack of Diamonds.

And a single cerulean spade surrounded in intricate flourishes – the Ace of Spades.

The colors swirled and congealed in Bomberman's mind...

"Er...Bomberman?"

Inspiration struck him then, provoked by an odd detail that he'd retained from earlier in the day. It was a bit of a long shot, true, but it was better than nothing. Anyway, since he only had two chances to get things right, he'd find out soon enough whether his _in_spiration would become his _ex_piration.

"Bomberman, did you – "

"I know the order," Bomberman said simply, turning and walking off.

Lilith blinked at his retreating back. "Wh-what?"

"Oho!" Tolbi snorted. "This'll be rich!"

Bomberman marched over to the combo reader with Lilith, Tolbi, and Pommy watching from afar. He fanned out the cards in his hands, rearranging them in what he thought might be the correct sequence. He took a breath, and then – starting from the left – began to swipe them in quick succession.

Yellow.

Green.

Red.

Blue.

And then...

The swiper gave a cheerful, affirmative _beep-beep_ before descending back into the floor.

The door hissed pneumatically as it slid into the wall.

"Myu!" Pommy held up a triumphant pink fist. "Nice job!"

Tolbi's mouth dropped. "H-how did you...?"

Bomberman rolled his eyes at Tolbi. "It was in the order of the lightning in your office behind your desk," he retorted, secretly relieved that he'd managed that shot in the dark. "You can't get much more obvious than that! Seriously, did you fail Security 101 or something? Yeesh." He peered into the newly revealed passageway. "Well, I guess we'd better get a move on. The sooner we're out of here, the sooner we'll be...uh...out of here."

"Agreed." Lilith promptly shoved a protesting Tolbi inside an empty locker and shut him in. ­_CL-CLANG! Click!_ She eyed the twitching figure of Iodem on the floor.

A pause.

Her eyes glowing gold again, Lilith grabbed the back of Iodem's shirt and yanked him up from the floor, cracking his ice manacles in the process. _CR-AAACCK! _Before he could figure out that he'd been freed, Lilith tossed him one-handedly into the locker next to Tolbi's and flung the door closed. _CLANG-click!_

Bomberman stared.

She gave an innocent blink. "What?"

Bomberman shook his head. Lilith surprised him every time she breathed, it seemed. "Never mind..."

B-O-M-B

"Pommy's glad to see that Bomberman and Lilith are okay!" Pommy said as the three of them walked down the passage to the Gravity Generator room. "Pommy would've stayed and helped with the guards, but Pommy knew that you two wanted information from Mr. Tolbi, so when Mr. Tolbi left, Pommy decided it would be better to follow him!"

Lilith laughed. "Good thinking there. You weren't scared?"

"Not at all!" The creature proudly stuck out his chest...whatever he had of one. "Mr. Tolbi and Iodem were nothing compared to Pommy, the greatest hero in the universe!"

Bomberman glanced down at Pommy. "I have to admit...I'm surprised you survived that long against...well, not Tolbi, but that bodyguard of his."

"Well, it wasn't hard at all – not for Pommy!"

"Ahh, cram it. You're not convincing anyone."

"I don't know, Bomberman," Lilith said slyly. "I'm finding Pommy's rhetoric rather compelling."

Bomberman gave her a weird look. "Oh, really? What kind of rhetoric is he using, _argumentum ad delusional creampuff?_"

A musical laugh. "More like _argumentum ad cuteness – _anything he says is true because he's so cute."

"Pfft! I'd argue that his cuteness actually _undermines_ anything he has to say."

"What? Bomberman's just being cute-ist now, myu!"

"Everyone's a little bit cute-ist sometimes..."

After another turn onto a straightaway, they stepped out onto a semi-circular platform jutting out into the Gravity Generator chamber. Two staircases on either side of the platform snaked along the adjacent walls before turning forward onto the main floor. The shielded generator, irritating in its familiarity by this point, stood in the center. Guarding its corners (and presumably powering the generator's force field) were four gigantic pillars of industrial blue-violet stretching from floor to ceiling, shot through with veins of pulsing electrical white from exposed circuitry. The only other thing of note in the chamber was a large computer console built into one of the walls.

Lilith stared. "Erm...wow," she breathed. "I think I'm definitely going to leave this up to you and your kablams."

"I'm not even sure I _could_ 'kablam' my way through those." But Bomberman headed down a staircase to try, followed by Pommy. The bomber cautiously approached the nearest pillar and rapped a knuckled against it. "Feels rock solid all the way through." He hummed thoughtfully and turned to see Lilith at the computer, tapping lightly on the main screen as she navigated its programs and commands. "Find anything interesting over there?"

"Yeah. Whoever set up the desktop must really have a hardcore foot fetish."

Bomberman did a double-take.

A few more soft taps, followed by an annoyed sigh. "I can't get too far in this thing – a lot of the important functions are password-protected. Looks like we'll just have to disable the force field with a whole lot of force." She turned and leaned back against the console, smiling serenely. "So go do your thing."

Bomberman nodded, motioning to Pommy to take cover. He placed a fire superbomb by the pillar, stepped back, and set it off with his remote.

_BOOOM!_

"Myu..." Pommy pouted. "That barely did any damage at all!"

Indeed, the only evidence of Bomberman's explosive efforts was a melted, soot-haloed shallow dent in the side of the pillar and on the floor. It hadn't even penetrated the outer casing of the pillar.

"Tough guy, aren't you?" Bomberman remarked. Undeterred, he charged four fire superbombs and stationed them strategically around the pillar before setting the explosives off.

_KA-__**BOOOOMM!!**_

The roar of the quadruple blasts reverberated in the chamber; the smoke filled the air and dissipated.

There was a stunned pause.

"No freakin' way..." Bomberman ran over and inspected the damage – or lack thereof, rather. The flames and force from the explosions had warped the outer layer of the pillar a little more than before, but that was it. "No way! It resisted _all that?!_"

"And it didn't even set off an alarm," Lilith added, sounding partially amused and partially surprised.

"Maybe Bomberman should put down even more bombs!" Pommy suggested.

"No can do." Bomberman sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm tapped at four supers."

Pommy scratched his head. "Myu? Why's that?"

"Bombers have a 'reservoir' of chi in their bodies that they use to power their explosives," Bomberman explained, bending over to run a hand over the most noticeably damaged section of the pillar. "Every time we create a bomb, we drain that reservoir. The only way to fill that reservoir back up is if the bomb explodes, because that's when the chi returns to us so we can use it again."

"Really?"

Lilith was also intrigued. "So that means...you can only put down a certain number of bombs before running out of chi to use for them."

"Right. Most bombers cap out at three or four normal bombs. Some reach as high as five or six. Honestly, though, reservoir size isn't all that important in the entire scheme of things. Well, except in deathmatches, but that's an entirely different story. All in all, it's more useful to mess around with the level of explosive power concentrated in a single bomb, instead." Bomberman shoved the tip of his shoe against the pillar, still testing the extent of the damage he'd managed to inflict. "Reservoir size really only matters – and only to a limited degree – if you're in military or law enforcement work, or if you're a criminal hellbent on mass destruction without being at the scene of the crime."

"Some might argue that there's no difference between the two." She tilted her head. "Can I ask where you happen to stand in the middle of all these stats and stuff?"

"Ah..." Bomberman simpered and shrugged. "I'm kind of a freak of nature. My limit's eight normals...which would be about equivalent to four supers."

Lilith raised her eyebrows with a smile. "Oh, I get it now! I bet _that's_ why you're called 'Bomberman', huh?"

Bomberman laughed – and it wasn't an entirely amused sound. "If only it were that simple." He sighed again. "But never mind that. Let's figure out how we're going to take down this damn thing." He glared at the pillar. "From what I can tell, I could probably eventually eat my way through, but it would take about twelve supers for just _one_. Do the math and we're talking about forty-eight supers total."

Lilith whistled. "And I'm assuming that not even you could deal with that many."

"Yeah. I can make supers more easily than most bombers, but if I had to do _forty-freakin'-eight_ I think the resulting headache and fatigue would murder me about halfway through, especially if we wanted to get out of here within the next hour or so." He frowned contemplatively as he considered other potential options. "This _is_ what's shielding the generator, right?"

"That's what the computer's indicating to me." She stretched out an arm and tapped her way through various digitally rendered figures and data streams. "There's probably a way to just de-power the pillars from here, but without the right authentication I can't get to that point. And while I have some hacking experience, I usually do it with the aid of an external device or a few, something to disrupt the normal process so I can more easily get in and mess around. That, or I have someone who helps out remotely." Her voice seemed hushed with these last few words.

Bomberman kicked the pillar again, resigned. "Well, if we don't have any other options, I guess I'd better get bombing – "

"Wait."

He did.

Lilith stared at the computer and inhaled. She turned...glanced at Bomberman...glanced at the pillar...then back at Bomberman.

"Wh-what's up?" he asked.

"I think I know how we can disable the force field without you having to bomb yourself oblivion." A tiny shrug. "Though...I can kind of understand if you don't want to go through with it."

"Why?"

"Because you'd need to use the Lightning Elemental."

Silence.

Bomberman gazed at her, feeling curiously empty and light.

The composed young woman actually fidgeted, ever so slightly. "...l-like I said, you don't – "

"_We ought to do what we feel we must, though we lack even the Ancestrals' trust,_" Bomberman recited flatly, "_for how else can we truly learn the price that must be paid for wisdom earned?_" He quirked a faint smile at Lilith's blank look. "An old saying from some religious scholar in my neck of the woods. It was meant to be empowering, but it's had a bit of a bloody history, considering that it's been used to justify its unfair share of idealistic atrocities on Bomber Star from here to infinity." The smile disappeared. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Well...those pillars are big hulking things of metal, right? And metal conducts electricity like a maestro conducts an orchestra, right? So..." Lilith gestured. "If you can use the Lightning Elemental to create electric-based explosives or something, you might be able to fry the circuitry inside the pillars – and thus disrupt the shielding programs – without having to actually destroy the pillars themselves."

Bomberman considered this. "That sounds reasonable enough. It's worth trying, at any rate."

"I'll keep an eye on the processes from here."

With two calming breaths and a burst of concentration, Bomberman drew out the pinkish-purple aura of the Lightning Stone in his mind, or from wherever those stones were floating around in his body. When he connected with it, he was surprised to find that, although the energy felt kind of prickly to him, it wasn't as unpleasant of a sensation as he initially feared. It was more akin to slightly dry grass in summer than to, say, a thorny rose bush. Though oddly enough...his mind registered the energy as _smelling_ like roses, ever so faintly.

Bomberman shook that nonsensical thought out of his skull. He held out a hand and called up a purple bomb with a sharp metal fuse, charging it to a glowing red superbomb, and then – after backing up a safe distance – flung the bomb at the pillar.

_KA-__**ZAAAPPP!!**_

It exploded in a brilliant sphere of violet-tinted lightning with a molten white core.

_ZZZT-ZZT-ZZZTTT!!_

White electricity bled out in jagged arcs from wrinkling seams in the pillar as the explosion wreaked havoc on the internal processes and circuits.

The sound of a machine's power supply being choked out suddenly gurgled in from somewhere, followed closely by –

_WHEEeeeeEEEeeeeeOOOooooo...!_

- the death wail of a security alarm.

"That did it!" Lilith announced over the clamor. "One of the pillars completely lost power, and the force field's been weakened!" She grinned. "Looks like I won't even have to do anything on my end!"

Pommy hopped up and down. "Let's hurry and get the rest of the pillars so we can leave!"

Bomberman didn't need to be told twice. With quick charging and a good throwing arm, he tossed more electrically charged bombs at the remaining force field pillars, efficiently disabling every one of them and consequently leaving the Gravity Generator vulnerable. Lilith joined Bomberman in making scrap metal of the contraption (_WHAM! CRASH! KA-BLAM!)_ before the two of them sprinted back up the staircases to flee the chamber, with Pommy close at their heels.

Behind them, the computer sent a digital, soulless SOS to the nearest BHB outpost...

B-O-M-B

"So, I just thought of something kinda important," Bomberman panted, running out of the warehouse and back into the hallways of the sub-basement.

"What's that?" Lilith asked.

"How're we gonna get back up to the regular basement if the only elevator up there is key-activated and we don't have the key?"

"Simple. We just go deeper down the cabbit hole."

"...uh?"

"There's another level below this one," Lilith explained as she, Bomberman, and Pommy rounded a corner. "It leads to a vehicle hangar, which leads to planes that we can 'borrow' for a bit, which thus leads to freedom." She picked up the pace and edged out to the front, a subtle signal to leave things to her once again.

Bomberman wondered how she knew about that, since he couldn't recall seeing anything of the sort on any of the maps he'd seen. "Okay, but what about our other planes? I mean, we've got our stuff there and all..."

"First thing's first – we gotta jet." She paused for a moment of thought. "Once we're in the clear...I'm going to get someone else to get our things. Hopefully he'll have some free time to waste playing 'go fetch!' for us, even if it means growling at us all the way to and from. We'll meet him on the Merchant Ship Frontier, hand over our keys, then we sit back and hide out on the ship for a bit until he gets back. I know, I know, it's not the most reassuring of plans, and it could go wrong in more ways than I care to think about at the moment, but at least it _is_ a plan."

"Who's this person you're talking about?"

"Hmm...a co-worker, you could say."

He blinked. "Myu?"

At the end of the hallway was a set of closed metal doors. Off to the side was a computer screen displaying a keypad.

"Damn, it needs an entry code," Bomberman grumbled.

"Not if we can help it!" Lilith threw him a sly look over her shoulder. "Think you can zap that out of commission for me? Things will be easier if I don't also have to wrestle with ghosts in the shell."

Slightly confused, Bomberman nevertheless hurled a lightning bomb at the panel.

_KA-ZAAAPP!_

The screen sparked, fizzled, and blacked out.

Brown eyes now aglow with ethereal gold, Lilith skidded to a stop before the doors, actually dug her fingers into the hairline crack between them, and pried them open with a throaty yet feminine growl.

_CREAAAAAKK!_

For a certain definition of the word "open", anyway, since the rumpled metal paired with the slender shape of the actual opening created a vaguely obscene-looking entrance.

"I'm going to have to ask you later how you keep doing things like that," Bomberman told her as he and Pommy climbed through the makeshift entrance after her.

Lilith laughed. "If I told you, I might end up killing you."

"Myu, Pommy hears trouble up ahead!" Pommy warned. "There's people running this way!"

Sure enough, thirteen black-suited BHB guards emerged from around the corner up ahead, armed and dangerous. "There they are!" one of them shouted as the rest of them fell into some sort of formation.

Lilith was about to let fly with a spray of chi knives when two lightning bombs sailed through the air on either side of her from behind.

They landed about a foot from the advancing enemies.

_KA-ZAAAAPP! KA-ZAAAPP!_

The front four were immediately caught in the electrical blasts. Twitching, jerking, and swearing, they collapsed to the ground, half-paralyzed. Their comrades retreated back slightly, not wishing to share their fate.

"Works even better than tasers," Bomberman remarked dryly.

"What're you doing, you cowards?" shouted the guards from earlier. "_Smoke 'em!_"

They tried their best.

_SP-SP-SPAAANG! SP-SP-SP-SPANG!_

Bomberman and Lilith wove through the bright blue laser fire, teeth gritting and eyes narrowed. As she ducked down low, Lilith flung out knives – _FWSH-FWSH-FWSH-FWSH! – _that embedded themselves into kneecaps, shins, feet.

Three guards bent over in pain. _TH-THUMP!_

A charged iced bomb arced low across the floor, landing on one of their backs...

_BLAAAMMM!!_

They were frozen in fetal, prone, and kneeling positions.

"Pah! Screw this!" One of the remaining six guards paused in his firing to reach inside a waist pouch and retrieve a grenade. He yanked out the pin with his teeth and hurled it at Bomberman and Lilith.

Two pairs of dark brown eyes widened –

_BOOM!_

Flames and smoke filled the hallway.

"Yeah!" another guard cheered. "You got 'em!"

_WHOOOSH!_

The air suddenly cleared, courtesy of a wind bomb.

The guards blinked and stared.

"Protip, guys," Bomberman said, a lightning bomb in his palm. "You don't want to be tossing bombs at someone who can toss bombs right back at you..._and never run out._" He dropkicked the explosive at the guards.

_KA-ZAAPPP!_

The explosion paralyzed them, leaving them jerking and groaning.

"Let's go!" Bomberman called, sprinting past them, with Lilith clearing the heap of downed guards with a single graceful leap and Pommy scurrying around the fallen bodies.

B-O-M-B

_KA-WHAM!_

Bomberman kicked open the door to the hangar, smacking aside a BHB guard just behind it. _WHACK!_

"Gah!" The guard reeled –

_BLAM! _An ice bomb froze him between the door and the wall.

From behind Bomberman, Lilith barreled in, arms swinging as she snapped out chi knife after chi knife after chi knife at the BHB guards that rushed upon them.

_FWSH-FWSH-FWSH-FWSH-FWSH!_

Bomberman alternated between tossing ice bombs and lightning bombs as he ran, flipped, and dodged.

_ZAAAPPP! BLAAMM! KA-ZAAAPPP!_

Many guards fell from the combined ambush.

But not enough.

"Nnnngh!" Bomberman planted a foot on an empty dolly and sent the thing careening at some guards. They scattered, but the distraction was enough to allow Bomberman to stun and then freeze them with the appropriate elemental bombs.

_ZAAAAPP! BLAAMM!_

His neck prickled with honed instincts, alerting him to danger from behind. He tossed one ice bomb in front of him to deal with one guard, effectively freezing him (_BLAM!_), then flung an ice bomb behind his back like a basketball player passing the ball to deal with the one behind him.

_KA-BLAM!_

The radius of the frosty explosion just barely missed.

The guard smirked. "Gotta do better'n that!" He aimed again –

"Super-Pommy _al rescate!_" Pommy bravely bounded in from out of nowhere and chomped down onto the guard's leg.

"Owww!" Growling, the guard swiveled his gun down.

_FWSH!_ A chi knife sang through the air and pierced the back of his hand.

The guard howled in pain and dropped his weapon.

Lilith sailed in with a boot to his face. _WHAM!_

He fell back comically, his feet snapping upwards and launching Pommy into the air. _SWOOSH!_

Lilith caught the creature by his floppy ears. "Gotcha!" she said, smiling. Her smile dropped and her eyes blinked as she caught sight of three more guards. "Oops, maybe not!" She dropped Pommy unceremoniously to the ground as she prepared to face them.

"M-myu!" _PLOP!_

The guards opened fire.

_SP-SP-SP-SP-SPANG!_

Lilith danced between the plasma with grace and ease. As soon as she got her first opening, her wrist snapped out.

_FWSH!_

One knife between widened eyes, before he dropped like a sandbag. _FWUMP!_

She sidestepped and twirled...

_FWSH!_

Another knife between ribs. This one stumbled and collapsed onto his back. _THUMP!_

The third guard gasped as he realized that his two comrades had been taken out. He spat out a vile curse and unleashed the full force of his laser rifle. "GRAAAAAUUGH!"

_SP-SP-SP-SP-SPAAANNGGG! SP-SP-SP-SPAAANG!_

Lilith frowned, swerved around the round of fire, and flicked out three more chi knives in quick succession.

_FWSH!_

Forehead.

_FWSH!_

Chest.

And...

_FWSH!_

"AAAGH!" The guard stumbled and rolled up into a ball of agony on the concrete, howling as he clutched between his legs.

A beat.

Lilith regarded him with a cold gaze – a gaze so cold her dark eyes almost seemed blue in the clinical white lights of the hangar.

...she silently kicked his gun away.

_Cl-clank!_

She inhaled and lifted her eyes.

In another part of the hangar...

_SP-SP-SP-SP-SPANG!_

_WHUMP!_

Bomberman dove and rolled behind a large metal crate for cover. He pressed his back up against it and inched towards the edge. A pause...and then he launched lightning bombs out from around the corner.

_ZAAAPP! ZAAPP! ZAPP!_

Startled screams and groans filled the air.

Bomberman took the cue and followed up with a barrage of ice bombs, successfully trapping some of the guards in an icy prison.

_KA-BLAM! KA-BLAM!_

He dared to peek out of his hiding place to survey the damage...

And Time slowed as he was forced to bend backwards at a precarious angle to just barely avoid having his upper torso fried by surprise lasers.

_SP-SP-SPAAANG...!_

...Time ran for its life again.

Bomberman turned the awkward dodge into a feat of acrobatic finesse as he simply planted his palms on the ground behind him and swiftly flipped back into an upright position. No sooner had he done so than he tossed out ice bombs at his aggressor.

_BLAM! KA-BLAM!_

The guard was frozen into position, like a life-sized soldier figurine.

Bomberman inhaled and ran a hand through his hair.

...footsteps sounded behind him.

He whirled around, lightning bomb at the ready.

"Ack!" Lilith held up her hands defensively. "Hold it, it's just me!"

Bomberman sighed. "Damn, you scared me!" He recalled the bomb, then glanced around at the hangar, finding beaten bodies of black littering the floor. "I'm assuming you took care of the rest?"

"Right as rain."

"Then let's get out of here before more guards show up!" Pommy said, toddling up beside Lilith from wherever he'd been during the fight. He looked around. "Um...which plane should we take?"

"One that works, obviously." Lilith hummed as she looked around and tapped a finger to her chin. "Let's check that one out," she said, pointing at one plane with an already-opened door.

These planes were of a different model than the BHB plane Bomberman had taken on Alcatraz. Whereas his stolen ride, dark and clunky, seemed to have been built for simple patrol and transportation, this one was a sleek fighter ship, narrower and yet slightly larger than the Alcatraz plane.

"Excellent!" Lilith exclaimed as she rummaged around the pockets of a fallen guard just outside the plane. "If we happen to run into trouble out there, we can just shoot it down." She came up with a silver key and climbed into the pilot's side to turn the plane on.

At the twist of the key, the dashboard lit up with a flurry of colored lights. The touchscreen came to life, displaying buttons and commands. The engine purred to life.

"Hehehe! All systems are go!" She entered a few commands, then smiled at Bomberman. "Well...what do you say we get this show on the space road, huh?"

B-O-M-B

**Aaaaaand that marks the end of the Starlight arc, finally! But before we move onto Neverland, we'll be spending some time on the Merchant Ship Frontier. Why? Because I can. And because I'm still trying to figure out what the hell I want to do on Neverland.**

**Thanks to everyone to keeps up with this, whether you review or not! This is mainly my way of keepin' it real while I wait for Hudson to get its act together and produce another game of TSA's caliber or with the TSA characters. And yeah, I realize I'm probably going to be waiting a hella long time for something like that, but considering that I'm projecting this fic and its sequel to have over 60 chapters each, well...I daresay I'll be quite occupied in the meantime.**

**Review if you will, flame if you must!**

**-Sora G. Silverwind**_**  
oh, let me be your Augustine**_


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